


Nothin' But Your Nights On

by fourdrunksluts



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom Ashton Irwin, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Neighbors, Sexual Tension, Sub Calum Hood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 11:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17527598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdrunksluts/pseuds/fourdrunksluts
Summary: Michael just doesn’t understand what it’s like to meet someone and feel such an instant, electrifying connection. He’s never been so drawn to someone that he resorts to such tactics. Ashton doesn’t tell him that, doesn’t want to be on the receiving end on his overdramatic pouts and pained eyes, but it’s the truth. At the end of the day, Ashton knows his feelings are more than just attraction - he couldn’t stop watching Calum if he tried.“And he can’t see you through the window?" Michael asks.“Not at all.” Ashton watches as Calum rips open an envelope, smiling at the card he finds inside. It makes Ashton grin too. “I’ve waved to him, got no response. He’s fucked his friend twice now, and I’ve been right here watching.” Michael laughs. “Not like that. I just happened to glance over and - ”“Oh, you justhappenedto, huh?"-After moving into his new apartment, Ashton realizes that his neighbor never closes his curtains.





	Nothin' But Your Nights On

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _Drew Barrymore_ by Bryce Vine
> 
> I'd of course like to thank my amazing beta, and co-creator of this plot, [Maia](http://reversecow.tumblr.com) for helping me pump this bitch out

Ashton’s always considered himself a bit of a minimalist. It’s not that he doesn’t own  _ anything _ , it’s just that he doesn’t own anything he doesn’t  _ need _ . He’s never felt a desire to have silly knick-knacks adorning every surface of his home, or throw pillows for his double-seater sofa. It’s unnecessary bullshit, and Ashton refuses to spend his money on such useless things. Hell, he doesn’t even own a television. 

Saying that, Ashton has no clue how he ended up needing an entire moving van to bring all of his belongings the fifteen miles he moved into the city. 

It should have been an easy job. Just him, a Saturday, and his SUV driving what little he owns into the city. Maybe it would’ve been two trips, but even so. It was supposed to be simple and quick, and Ashton should have been in his newly made bed about three hours ago. 

Which is why it’s so damn frustrating that he’s in the back of the moving van trying to unload his drum kit as his best friend and coworker, Michael, carries the endless supply of boxes up the stairs. There’s no explanation for how he acquired so many personal belongings, but Ashton’s dealing with it. 

As best as he can, at least. 

He’s been trying to delicately maneuver one of the toms of his drum kit out from the back of the truck with immense difficulty when suddenly a voice is echoing around the metal interior of the vehicle. 

“You just moving in then?”

With a small jump, Ashton looks up to see a man standing at the end of the truck bed. He has soft brown hair that’s curling at the very end and he’s drowning in a sweater that looks a size too big. Ashton isn’t much of a cuddler, but he wants to wrap this man in a blanket and listen to him tell stories about his day. 

“I am, yeah,” Ashton says, letting a laugh run through his voice. It feels nice, letting some of the frustration drain from his body. “Trying to, at least,” he adds when the bottom of his tom gets caught between two boxes. 

The man at the end of the truck smiles, his eyes crinkling, somehow softening even further. Ashton kind of wants to fall to his knees. “I hope you don’t plan on keeping the whole building up all night playing that.”

It’s something that would seem snide from anyone else, but the man looks like a fucking vision, and Ashton can’t do anything but laugh, teasing alongside him. “I just might.”

“It’s a good thing I’m one over then, isn’t it?” He points to the building standing perpendicular to the one Ashton’s moving into. 

“I’ll have to play a little harder to make sure you’ll hear it then, I suppose.”

The man laughs and shakes his head, and Ashton takes the moment to climb out of the truck and stand in front of him. Ashton’s a bit shorter than him, but his squishy cheeks and fuzzy sweater make the man seem much smaller. 

“I’m Calum,” his neighbor reaches a hand out, and Ashton shakes it. Calum’s hands are big, but Ashton’s basically dwarf them, and it instills an electrifying pleasure in him. 

“Ashton.” 

When they let go of each other, Calum’s cheeks are slightly red. He clears his throat before speaking. “Are you new to the city then?”

“Kind of,” Ashton shrugs. “I lived just outside of town, but the commute was too long. Figured it’d be smart to move closer.”

“So you’re not looking for someone to show you around then, I guess?”

Ashton can feel himself grinning, a tilt to it at the implication. “Well if someone were to offer, I don’t think I’d say no.” He goes to lean against where his cymbal is resting, but the stand is too thin to hold him up, so he stumbles a bit and catches it before they both go crashing to the ground. He can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed when Calum laughs, the sound dancing around Ashton’s ears. 

“You’re so smooth.” He’s clearly being sarcastic, but it’s soft and warm, and Ashton wants to keep making him laugh again and again. 

He doesn’t get the opportunity to, though. Suddenly the sound of the glass door to his building unlatching is heard and Michael’s voice is echoing across the courtyard. 

“What’s the fucking hold up, Ash? I don’t want to be here all night. Let’s - ” He stops halfway through his sentence, when he takes notice of Calum, to smirk. Ashton groans internally, praying that his friend decides not to be a total dick about this. “Well, who’s this?” 

“I’m, uh.” Calum looks between the two of them awkwardly. “I’m Calum. I live a building over.” He points again, but Michael doesn’t follow his finger; instead choosing to keep grinning at the man. 

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m Michael, Ashton’s seemingly platonic coworker.” Ashton wants to punch Michael in the face when Calum’s face gets a bit red and he starts distancing himself from the truck. 

“I should leave you to your moving. It was nice to meet you, Michael.” He sticks his hand out to shake Michael’s, pulling back quickly. “Ashton.” Ashton shakes his hand again, and considers it a small victory when Calum holds on just a moment too long. “I’ll see you around.”

He turns and walks towards his building, Ashton watching the entire time. The moment the glass doors close, he’s turning and punching a laughing Michael’s arm. “You’re a dick.” 

“Yeah, and?”

⇆

Later that night, long after Michael’s gone home and abandoned him with twenty unpacked boxes and no structural plan to organize his furniture, Ashton heads into his bedroom to make his bed. He’s given up completely on unpacking, figuring it’ll have to wait for another day when’s he’s not exhausted from just looking at the stacks of cardboard. 

It’s dark in the room, his overhead light lacking a bulb - and his extras are packed up somewhere in another room - so he opens his curtains to let some of the moonlight in. He also likes the idea of waking up with the sun, so he won’t be in too much of a rush to find an extra bulb. 

As he’s throwing the comforter atop his fitted sheet, he looks out his window as sees an entire living room, glass windows giving him an extremely intimate view of his neighbor’s home, and no blinds to obstruct it. There’s a man on the couch, leaning forward and - 

_ Oh _ . That’s Calum. 

On the other side of the courtyard, only a sidewalk and some grass between them, is  _ Calum _ . He looks just as soft and sweet as he did downstairs just a few hours before, only now he’s wearing flannel sweats and no shirt and Ashton just wants to feel his skin against his own. 

It seems that he’s cleaning off his coffee table, organizing the small array of papers stretched across the surface. The television is casting a glow on him until he lifts a remote off the table and turns it off. After a moment, he stands up and looks out his window. Ashton smiles and waves, but Calum must not be able to see him because he only stretches, walking right past where Ashton is trying to make himself seen, and turns his light off. 

It must be a trick of the light or the dark nature of his window, but he’s completely invisible - able to look into Calum’s home when the favor can’t be returned. It’s odd, sure, but not too big of a deal. 

In the end, he’s only the slightest bit sad he didn’t get to see Calum smile at him again. 

⇆

The next day, as Ashton’s getting out of the shower, still damp with only a towel around his waist, he notices Calum in his living room again. He appears to be sorting through his mail, reacting slightly to each new one he inspects. He’s placing them one by one on the side table against the large windows, and Ashton finds himself oddly interested in watching. 

Suddenly, Calum’s throwing everything on the table with a shake of the head. Ashton would think him angry, but there’s a smirk on his face and his upper body is shaking in laughter. He walks out of the room from there, and Ashton’s left to assume that there must’ve been something daunting in his mail. 

⇆

Ashton wakes up the next morning to the spectacularly intoxicating view of Calum in his boxers, drinking a coffee, and walking the perimeter of his living room slowly. There’s a news report on his television it appears, but Calum’s only listening. Ashton watches, hypnotized. He finds himself incredibly taken by how fucking  _ pert _ Calum’s ass is. The pants he’s been wearing just don’t do him justice. 

When Ashtons alarm goes off and he has to get ready for work, he feels incredibly upset to be torn from the great view. 

⇆

“Ashton!” 

Ashton’s getting back from his morning jog when he sees his neighbor waving him down on the sidewalk. They’re a bit down the road from the apartments, and Calum looks to be wearing a uniform, so Ashton guesses he’s going to the bus stop on his way to work. 

“Calum, hey!” 

Suddenly, Ashton feels a bit self-conscious. Calum looks professional and clean, and Ashton’s positively drenched in sweat. It’s a warm morning, and he’s just ran a mile, but he still feels exposed in his damp clothing. 

He takes his earbuds out and wraps them around his neck so they don’t fall. Calum walks up to him, Ashton too busy catching his breath to meet him halfway. As he’s wiping the sweat from his brow, he’s certain he sees the other man’s eyes drifting down his body, and instantly he feels himself standing up a bit taller at the possibility that he was being checked out.

“What’re you doing up so early?” he asks. Calum smiles, grabbing the corner of the tag on his shirt that says “Calum :)” with a puppy sticker on it. Ashton wants to wrap him in his arms and never let him go. “You’re either going to work, or you have a strange sense of fashion.” 

“Oh, I have great style,” Calum insists, no hesitation in his voice. 

Ashtons hums, eyebrows furrowed in mock-doubt. Calum laughs quietly at the look. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen anything exceptional yet.”

“You’ve hardly seen me in anything.” 

“Or out of anything,” Ashton teases, letting his confidence take over.  

Calum opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His face is red and then he laughs, shaking his head letting his eyes fall to the sidewalk. “I should… The bus will be here soon.” Ashtons smile drops but then it’s back on his face before Calum looks back up. 

“Don’t want to miss it, right?” he teases, hoping the smile on his face masks his worries that he’s come on too strong. 

Calum shakes his head. “I’ll see you around?”

“I’m always around.” At Ashton’s goodbye, Calum smiles and heads off. Ashton lets him go, doing his best not to check out Calum’s ass as he goes, now that he knows how fucking perky it is. 

One of these days, Ashton likes to hope he’ll end a conversation properly. 

⇆

Later, when Calum gets home from work, Ashtons in bed sorting through sheet music. He doesn’t pay much mind as Calum paces his living room, but when he suddenly stops and stares determinedly at the phone in his hand, Ashton’s attention is caught. 

There’s a struggle in Calum’s head, he’s mouthing things to himself and hitting himself in the head, before he’s clicking buttons and holding the device to his ear. After he hangs up, Calum takes off into the apartment, and Ashton doesn’t seem him again until later. 

When he does make a reappearance, he’s stripped of his uniform and now wearing sweatpants that hang deliciously low on his hips. Ashton can’t help but wonder why pictures of him aren’t hanging in art shows across the world. He’s a fucking  _ vision _ . 

Calum goes straight for the front door and throws it open. Before Ashton can understand what’s happening, or even see anything, Calum’s pulling his visitor in for a kiss. They’re mostly shadows because it’s dark in Calum’s apartment, and they quickly take off for the bedroom. 

Ashton doesn’t really see much of anything at all, but his heart is in his stomach. 

⇆

At work the next day, during his free period, Ashton hangs out in Michael’s office. Or really, Ashton mopes in Michael’s office.

A few months back while Michael was using the bathroom during lunch, Ashton nabbed a spare key from the ring carelessly left on the table, and he sometimes uses his friend’s office as a place to feel sad. It’s bright and colorful and somehow always makes him feel worse. 

He’s sitting at Michael’s desk, his head in his arms when the door suddenly opens. He looks up to see Michael looking at him, brow quirked in confusion. “Why are you in my office?” he wonders. “How did you even get in here?”

It’s been months and he’s never been caught before, so this week is starting to feel like a giant failure. 

“I think Calum has a boyfriend,” Ashton grouses. He feels like he’s done nothing but sulk all day, but he can’t seem to stop himself. 

“Who’s Calum?” Michael asks before shaking his head. “No, how did you get in here?”

“My neighbor,” Ashton addresses the first question only, that’s the most important part. “The one across the courtyard.” 

“The one that looks like a puppy?”

He’d never realized it before but  _ fuck _ . Ashton groans pathetically, dropping his head back down. “He  _ does _ look like a puppy.” Instead of being a good best friend and consoling a broken and depressed Ashton, Michael just laughs before walking over to the cabinets behind him. 

“What makes you think he has a boyfriend?” There’s no actual interest in his voice, but Ashton still appreciates the attempt. 

“Last night some guy came over and they started kissing.” He thinks he can actually feel his heart breaking in his chest as he retells last night’s discovery to Michael. “Then they disappeared into the bedroom. I just watched.”

Ashton’s miserable, and he know he sounds pathetic, but all Michael does is stand tensely, looking confused. “Did he fuck his boyfriend while you were over?”

“What? No.”

“Then how do you know he had a boyfriend over?” Michael asks and Ashton turns red when he realizes he just gave himself away. He curses himself for letting too much information spill. 

“I didn’t,” he stutters, “I was just - ”

“Ashton  _ Irwin _ , you peeping tom.” There’s a crash from the other room, cutting Michael off and he groans, eyes closing at the noise. “Hold that thought, you voyeuristic freak. I want to hear all about this later.” 

Michael races off to the classroom holding a basket full of chalk in his arms and Ashton throws his head against the desk. He spends the rest of his free period in Michael’s office whining to himself about his misfortune and how he deserves better than the shit the universe likes to throw at him. 

He has a terrible rest of the day, and doesn’t even stay to clean up his classroom - that’s a problem for Morning Ashton. He goes home and collapses into bed, not even sparing a glance across the window. It’ll all be fine in the morning. 

Everything is  _ fine _ . 

⇆

Things are fine until they aren’t. 

When Ashton first learned how to play the drums, he had dreams of being in a rock band. It didn’t work out, but he wasn’t disappointed when he found out he could still have a career in music - teaching it. 

Even so, Ashton rarely touches his drum kit. He didn’t have it in his dorm at university, so it faded out from his daily schedule. He only really ever plays it when he’s strung out, needing a method to release his frustration that differs from his usual routine. Today is that day. 

He spends a solid hour or so drumming along to the music in his earbuds. It’s a playlist of some of the more percussion-heavy songs he likes, and it’s a great way to let off steam. He feels himself getting more aggressive than usual, sweating until his entire shirt is drenched, sticking to his body and weighing him down. 

The playlist ends and Ashton throws his drumsticks across the room with a grunt. He feels exhausted in the best way possible - a relief he hasn’t felt since first meeting Calum. 

He walks into his room, stripping himself of his damp shirt along the way, grinning at the newfound looseness in his bones. He manages to look up just as Calum’s walking into his apartment from what was most likely the laundry room. He looks up, and something must catch him off guard because he’s suddenly falling forward, the clothes in his laundry basket flying across the floor. 

Ashton lets himself laugh gently at that, feeling a bit better about everything from his drumming. Calum frowns down at the clothing, before kneeling to clean it up. As he pouts, Ashton’s struck with how much he really  _ does  _ look like a puppy. 

He cleans up his room a bit, figuring he, too, could do some laundry soon. He’s sorting through the mail on his side table when he realizes he needs to check today’s and heads outside. He doesn’t remember he’s still shirtless until he feels the breeze hit his still somewhat damp skin. 

On his way back in, he bumps into a body, a man - tall, blond, and pretty in a way that Ashton can appreciate without being outright into him. They both laugh awkwardly, muttered apologies falling from their lips, and then head their separate ways. He thinks nothing of it until he’s in his room again, sorting through his mail, only to see the same guy from downstairs coming through Calum’s front door. 

He looks bit awkward, and Ashton wonders if he accidentally has the wrong address, but then Calum kisses him, and Ashton realizes - 

_ This _ is Calum’s boyfriend. 

The two of them fall into the couch together, bodies intertwined. Feeling invasive, Ashton only lets himself watch for a moment, only until Calum’s shirt comes off, and then he takes off for a shower, willing himself not to get worked up again. Not after it took so long to work off the tension. 

He stays in as long as he can, until he’s pruney and the water runs cold. As he’s coming out, he spares a glance across the courtyard and immediately regrets it. 

Calum is naked on his couch, completely visible for Ashton to see, riding the guy from downstairs. There’s a crease in his brow and his muscles are locked tightly. Ashton can’t stop looking. Every time he tries to, his body won’t listen to his mind, too caught up on the apparent frustration painted on Calum’s face. Eventually, he makes himself lie in bed, facing away from the window, clenching his hands as he wills himself not to get any harder. 

But he can’t stop thinking about how dissatisfied Calum looked, nails digging into the guy’s shoulders, as he glared at the ceiling. Ashton wants to know what was on his mind. 

He wants to make it better. 

⇆

At school on Monday, he’s eating lunch in the teacher’s lounge when Michael wanders in. He’s got a glint in his eye that has Ashton already groaning. It’s only eleven in the morning, but he’s already so fucking done with this day. 

“ _ Thomas _ Ashton Irwin, how are you doing?” 

The joke doesn’t sink in immediately, and Ashton’s left staring at him, eyebrow raised in confusion, until Michael’s smirk starts to make sense with the last time they spoke to each other. “I’m not a peeping tom.” 

“And I’m not the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen,” he returns, looking far too smarmy about his jokes. Ashton rolls his eyes, wishing he had the power to make unwanted nuisances disappear. “We can both lie to make you feel better, but I think you’ll find I’m much less annoying when we’re honest.” 

There’s no doubt in his mind that Michael’s going to milk this situation for all the potential jokes that it has, and Ashton will be damned if just sits back and lets that happen. 

“My window faces his living room, and he doesn’t close his curtains, okay?” he defends himself. It doesn’t have the desired effect of shutting Michael up, just gives him more questions. 

“And you can’t close yours?”

That makes Ashton pause. As much as he wants to say he’d considered that, he hadn’t. But now that he is, he can’t see himself doing it. Call him a glutton for punishment, but watching Calum in his tight boxers is definitely worth occasionally seeing him on top of another man. 

“I like to wake up with the sun,” he says, aware that it’s a weak excuse. “You know that.” 

Michael sees right through him, grinning slowly at the shame staining Ashton’s face. “You’re a filthy pervert.” 

When the choir teacher looks over with wide eyes, lips parted in shock, Ashton smacks Michaels shoulder a few times. “Stop saying that!”

“It’s true, man!” Michael’s laughing as he leans away from Ashton’s assaulting hands. “You can’t get mad at me just because you like to watch your puppy of a neighbor.” He leans too far out of reach, so Ashton stops swinging and frowns down at his bag of grapes. “Although, it’s not too bad if you think about it. A bit ‘ _ Shelter Island _ ’ if you ask me, but at least it’s not his bedroom.” 

Michael shrugs, picking up his fork and taking a bite of his food, but Ashton stays silent, stays still. Technically the statement wasn’t wrong - he can’t see Calum’s bedroom. Though, maybe it’d be a more convincing argument if Calum didn’t use his couch as saddle to ride his boyfriend on. 

When the silence carries on too long, Michael looks up, mid-bite, with narrowed eyes. “Can you see - ”

“No, of course not!” He yells back, cutting off whatever question Michael was going to ask. It doesn’t end there, though, Michael maintaining his calculating look. 

“Why are you being weird?” He asks. When Ashton doesn’t answer, he persists, “Why do you look guilty? How did you get into my office the other day?” 

“I didn’t lie,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. “I can only see his living room.”

“Then why do you look guilty? Answer the question.”

For a moment, Ashton considers running - just sweeping his paper bag from the table and taking off for his office (Michael doesn’t have a key for it) - but then he considers the logistics of spending the rest of his life avoiding Michael’s inquisitive eyes. It’d be more fun than revealing just how fucking creepy Ashton really is, but it’s not practical in the long run. Worth considering, definitely, but not worth attempting. 

Especially when Ashton realizes he doesn’t actually have any other friends. 

“I can only see his living room,” he begins. Michael opens his mouth to interrupt, but closes it immediately when Ashton continues, “ _ But _ , he and his boyfriend may have fucked on the couch.” Michael’s mouth drops at the confession. “And I may have watched some of it.”

As expected, Michael laughs, but it’s only once, and the noise is aborted halfway through. “I thought I was joking when I called you a pervert, but - ”

“The second his friend came over I took a shower - ”

“I bet you did,” Michael taunts, not even grinning with it.

Ashton’s face is red, and he’s putting most of his energy into willing the floor to open him up and swallow him whole. “But when I got back Calum was riding him on the couch, and his face was - He just…” He trails off, mind clouding over with thoughts of how frustrated Calum looked. “I couldn’t look away.” 

“Because you’re a pervert.”

“Michael - ”

“Oh my god,” Michael cuts him off, hands suddenly in his hair and then rubbing down his cheeks. “I’m going to have to find new friends. First it’s just watching, but then you’re going to follow him everywhere. You’ll kidnap his boyfriend - wear his skin as a coat. You’re going to  _ jail _ , Ashton.”

It’s a shock that Michael teaches painting and sculpting and whatever else they do in that chemical-soaked room instead of Theater. He’s the most unnecessarily dramatic person Ashton knows, and the fact that he isn’t profiting off of it should be a crime. 

“I haven’t done anything illegal,” he points out. 

“Not  _ yet _ .” 

Ashton rolls his eyes. He just wanted to eat his damn grapes before he has to go listen to the freshmen do their scales test. “I’m not going to do anything crazy. I won’t watch him anymore.” Michael glares at him, so he insists, “I  _ won’t _ .”

He clearly doesn’t believe Ashton, it’s written all over his face, but he moves past it, and Ashton breathes a sigh of relief. 

Until. 

“So how did he look?”

He groans, dropping his head into his hands. “ _ Really _ good.”

Michael laughs at him, but leaves him alone about Calum for the rest of lunch. Sure, he moves on to ramble about how one of his students keeps turning in pictures of an algebra teacher’s face, and how it’d be creepy if she wasn’t so goddamn talented, but it’s a better topic than Ashton’s new ‘hobby’. 

A few minutes before the bell rings, the principal wanders in and points to the bulletin board where there’s a sign up sheet pinned - only four lines scribbled in - for the upcoming career fair. They need chaperons and they’re desperate.  

“So are you signing up?” Michael asks as soon as their boss walks out of the lounge. 

Even though he’s well aware it wasn’t a joke, Ashton can’t help but laugh in his face. “Definitely not.” 

“They’re giving us an extra sick day, though.”

“Which you’ll need to take immediately when you get a week long migraine from the sheer volume of the kids,” Ashton argues. Michael frowns, and, not wanting to be a complete dick, Ashton expands. “I did it two years ago, and even to this day, it’s the worst day I’ve ever had at work.”

Still frowning, Michael huffs. “I signed up to help out.” 

“That’s tragic,” Ashton says, void of any emotion, which Michael glares at. “I’ll write out your obituary.” 

“And I’ll write out your plea bargain for when they charge you with stalking and scalping.” At Michael’s sharp tongue, Ashton throws a grape, which just nearly lands in Michael’s mouth, hitting the edge and bouncing away. “That was so close, man.”

“That would’ve been awesome.”

The bell rings and Ashton stands to leave, but Michael stops him with a hand on his wrist. “Wait, throw another before you go.” Ashton throws two at the same time and neither go in his mouth; instead, one hits his nose and the other bounces just shy of his eye. “You’re no fun.” 

⇆

After work, which was a long and utterly draining, Ashton has to stay back to clean up the mess of sheet music covering every inch of his office. It takes a few hours, and even then, he still has a few files to organize, but he’s sick of the cold and lifeless air in his office, so he takes them home, figuring he can sort through everything after giving himself some time to unwind. 

Just before he makes it to his door, he notices a person curled up on the front steps of the building next to him. It doesn’t take long to recognize it as Calum. Without even thinking about it, Ashton, with his arms stacked high with sheet music, skips his own entrance and approaches the glum looking man. 

He really  _ does _ look like a puppy. 

“Calum?” Ashton asks, his voice hesitant and low so as not to spook him. “You alright?” 

Calum looks up, his brown eyes lacking their usual shine, but he smiles when he takes note of Ashton. Though it’s not as bright as it usually is. “Ashton, hi. How are you?” 

“I’m fine.” Ashton feels himself frowning at Calum’s casual avoidance of the question. “How are  _ you _ ?” He kicks his toe gently against the heel of Calum’s boot. 

“I’m okay,” Calum sighs, his entire body rising and falling with it. “Left my keys at work, so now I’m locked out.” 

“Do you have a spare, or are you waiting for a coworker?”

“My sister has my spare,” he says, “but she doesn’t get off work until seven. I don’t want to take the bus back to work, so I’m just waiting.”  

Ashton contemplates asking if Calum would like a ride to his work, just to help him out and get him home faster, but he’s selfish and Calum looks incredibly cuddly right now, and Ashton’s never been a strong person when it comes to pretty boys. “If you’d like, you can come wait at my place?”

“Oh.” Calum’s eyes drift down to the stack of papers resting in Ashton’s arms. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way.” 

“You wouldn’t be,” Ashton insists. He does his best to make it look like the papers aren’t weighing him down a bit. “This is just sheet music I have to organize. Figured I’d rather do it at home on my bed than in the back office.” 

“Sheet music?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Ashton laughs, the sound coming out a bit awkwardly. “I’m a band teacher at the high school. Sheet music is my drug of choice, I guess you could say.” 

Calum grins, eyes flickering over Ashton’s face briefly before shaking his head. “I can’t imagine you being a teacher.”

“I’m a  _ great _ teacher,” Ashton finds himself biting. He means for it to sound angry, but the grin on his face gives him away. “I’ll have you know. I’m cool Mr. Irwin. My students love me.” 

“You look so young,” Calum challenges. “Do they even take you seriously?” 

It’s hard not to full on laugh at Calum’s insults, but he manages to keep himself down to just a smile. “Now I’m getting offended.” There’s no rebuttal, Calum just smiles. Ashton takes the opportunity to flick his head towards his building. “Come on. My place is warm.” 

“It’s not like it’s too cold outside.”

“ _ Calum, _ ” he whines. “Let’s go. I won’t take no for answer.”

There’s a moment where it looks like Calum’s going to argue, but instead sighs, rising to his feet, standing just a few inches taller than Ashton, but always looking so tiny. “I didn’t know you could be so assertive.” Ashton bites his lip and turns to lead the way. Calum has no idea just how authoritative Ashton can be, but one day, hopefully, if that’s something he’s into, Ashton wants to take his time and show him. 

They make their way to Ashton’s building, Calum holding the glass door open for him, and they climb the stairs. It’s not until Ashton reaches his door that he realizes there’s an issue between his papers and his keys. 

“Do me a favor?” 

He’s sticking his hip out and Calum shakes his head when he figures out what Ashton’s asking. He reaches over and grabs Ashton’s keys from his belt loop, and if his fingers graze a little more left than necessary, neither of them say anything about it. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, following Ashton in. 

As Ashton makes his way inside, he hears the door close. He sets his papers down on his dining room table, and behind him, Calum asks, “So am I ever going to get to see you bang?” 

There’s a heart-stopping, fear-induced moment that has Ashton thinking he’s been caught, that Calum knows he’s watched the sexual escapades that occur across the courtyard. But then he turns around to see Calum air drumming and Ashton grins - barely there but drenched in relief. 

“Probably,” Ashton answers. “Eventually. I jog a lot, do yoga, sometimes I lift. So when I need to relieve stress in a different way, I take it out on the drums.” 

“And you’re not stressed enough to drum right now?” 

It’s a loaded question, really. Ashton’s  _ always _ stressed when it comes to Calum, and if he could, he’d show Calum just how stressed he can get. 

As it stands, now isn’t the time. He wants to get to know Calum before he starts playing for him. 

“Not quite,” he chuckles. Calum frowns at that, and Ashton wants to kiss his stupid pouty lips. “Besides, I don’t want to do it too often. Nobody’s complained about my playing yet, and I’d like to keep it that way.” 

“I’ll just have to be patient then, I suppose.”

“I suppose you will,” he agrees. It’s then that Ashton takes notice of Calum’s attire - his uniform - and uses it as an opportunity to learn more about his neighbor. “So what is it that you do?” Calum quirks an eyebrow, and Ashton gestures to his name tag, the puppy sticker still smiling back at him. “For work.” 

Calum’s eyes follow Ashton’s line of sight, a soft sweet smile dancing across his lips when he sees the tag. “I work at the animal shelter.” 

“ _ Really _ ?”

He doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasnt that. 

“Yeah.” His soft grin grows, and it’s just as breathtaking as the first time Ashton saw it. “The complex doesn’t let us have pets, so this is how I get my fill of them.” 

“You like animals?” Ashton asks. 

There’s a spark in Calum’s brown eyes, one Ashton wants to see every day for the rest of his life. “I love them,” he sighs. “A little too much, my boss might say. I sometimes forget I have an actual job and just play with the kittens for a few hours.”

And Ashton fucking melts. He’s never been super into animals, never had any pets to steal his heart, but knowing that Calum’s lost in his love just makes him so much more perfect in Ashton’s eyes. “If you could have a pet, what do you think you’d want?”

“A dog, definitely,” Calum answers with a laugh. “Not sure what breed, I don’t think it’d matter, but I’ve always felt like I needed a puppy.”

At first, Ashton bites his tongue against the thought running through his head, but Calum’s looking at him, eyes curious and kind and drawing Ashton in like the lovefool he is, and he can’t stop himself from talking. “You kind of look like a puppy.”  

It’s not the reaction Ashton expected, but when Calum’s face positively  _ flames _ , his eyes falling to the floor as a bashful smile takes over, Ashton can’t complain. It was just a throwaway comment, something that’s just been on his mind, but seeing such a strong reaction lights a spark under Ashton’s skin. 

Calum releases his bottom lip from where his teeth were wearing it down. “Let’s talk about something else.” Ashton smiles when he still won’t meet his eyes. 

“Sure thing, pup.” At the nickname, Calum makes a small little noise and Ashton feels fucking powerful. “Do you want to help me sort some music?” Calum just nods, still staring at the floor, but Ashton doesn’t mind the slight disconnect, not after he feels like he’s just discovered something important. 

For the next hour, Calum does his best to help Ashton organize his files. Eventually, after he’s calmed down from the ‘puppy’ of it all, he begins to open up, discussing his taste in music with Ashton. They have a lot in common - because of  _ course _ they do - and time goes by much faster than either of them want. 

When he’s alone - or with his boyfriend - in his living room, Calum’s every bit Ashton’s wet dream. As hot as that is, though, he can’t help but prefer his neighbor like this, soft and warm and a cuddly puppy. 

When Calum’s sister comes with the spare, he leaves with a hug and Ashton feels more at ease than any drumming can ever make him feel. 

He feels guilty later as he watches Calum come home, smiling to himself as he strips his shirt at the front door and makes his way to his room. On the brightside, there’s no sign of his boyfriend in sight, and Ashton considers that a win. 

⇆

The next time Calum’s boyfriend comes over, Ashton’s in his room, on his bed, trying to make the setlist for an upcoming recital. Michael’s sitting across from him, a sketch in front of him of how he wants the displays at the art fair to look. It’s simple work, but it takes some time and consideration, and Ashton hasn’t really seen Michael outside of work lately so this is the perfect time. 

Calum comes home alone, and Michael’s the first to notice as he’s facing where the front door would be. “Your neighbor’s home.” Ashton looks up quickly, his back cracking at the speed at which he sits up, and Michael laughs. “You’re pathetic. You know that, right?”

“I’m not.”

“You  _ are _ ,” he insists, making Ashton roll his eyes. “You’re sitting here staring in your neighbor’s window, watching him hang his keys up and take off his shoes, just because you think he’s cute.”

Ashton doesn’t like the way he said ‘ _ think _ ’ as though Calum isn’t the most attractive person he’s ever seen in his entire goddamn life. “It’s more than just him being cute.”

“Is it, though?” Michael’s long since abandoned his artwork, his sketchbook thrown haphazardly on the bed in front of him. He’s staring at Ashton, green eyes inquisitive, searching his face for answers. “Have you ever had an actual conversation with him?” 

“He was actually over here the other day,” Ashton grins smugly. It’s the first question Michael’s asked in weeks that Ashton can answer and feel good about. “We’ve had a  _ few _ conversations.” 

“Were any of them about your sick, voyeuristic tendencies?”All of Ashton’s confidence disappears when Michael reminds him just how twisted his watching really is, so he ignores the question and watches as Calum goes over to his side table and sorts through his mail. 

Michael just doesn’t understand what it’s like to meet someone and feel such an instant, electrifying connection. He’s never been so drawn to someone that he resorts to such tactics. Ashton doesn’t tell him that, doesn’t want to be on the receiving end on his overdramatic pouts and pained eyes, but it’s the truth. At the end of the day, Ashton knows his feelings are more than just attraction - he couldn’t stop watching Calum if he tried. 

“And he can’t see you through the window?” Michael asks. 

“Not at all.” Ashton watches as Calum rips open an envelope, smiling at the card he finds inside. It makes Ashton grin too. “I’ve waved to him, got no response. He’s fucked his friend twice now, and I’ve been right here watching.” Michael laughs. “Not like that. I just happened to glance over and - ”

“Oh, you just  _ happened _ to, huh?” 

Ashton raises his middle finger, and instead of letting it end, Michael leans forward and hits Ashton’s shoulder. Ashton returns it, but he doesn’t know his own strength, and Michael almost falls off the bed, barely being saved by Ashton’s quick reflexes, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back into a sitting position. They both laugh, relieved and nervous at the accident that almost was. 

Once he’s certain Michael’s not going to slip off the bed and break his arm, he goes back to the sheet music in front of him. He looks up when he notices Michael doesn’t go back to his work, only to see him staring curiously at the window. 

“Are you positive he can’t see you?” he asks. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“He was looking over here and just started frowning,” Michael explains. 

Ashton looks up, but Calum’s still staring down at his mail. “Maybe it was his mail or something - ”

“Or his own reflection.” It’s said sarcastically, but Ashton still agrees with a nod. Michael’s lips thin at his easy acceptance of then joke. “How can he just  _ not _ see you? Your windows aren’t tinted or anything.”

“Maybe it has something to do with the way the sun hits the building or something,” Ashton supplies him with the first thought he’d had when he realized Calum couldn’t see him, but Michael looks uncertain. “Look, it’s been a month. If he can see me, but is just  _ choosing _ to ignore my waves and fuck his boyfriend in his living room - well, maybe I don’t care.”

“You do care though.”

He  _ does _ care, that’s the fucking problem of it all. He’s cares too much about Calum and his boyfriend and the shit they get up to right in Ashton’s fucking viewpoint. “He can’t see me. Let’s leave it at that.” 

“One day you’re going to go over to his house for milk or sugar or something and see your own bedroom clear as day,” Michael tells him.

“If that ever happens, it’ll be because I’m fingering him against  _ his _ window, and then I don’t think I’ll care that much.”

Michael laughs. “You’ve got high hopes, don’t you?”

“Or extraordinarily low ones,” Ashton counters. Michael hums, and they both go back to their work. And if Michael tries to bring the topic up again, Ashton just focuses more intently on the songs listed in front of him. 

As they’re finishing up their work, a streak runs past Calum’s window and both Ashton and Michael watch as he throws open his door, pulling his boyfriend in by front of his shirt. Immediately, Ashton ushers Michael into the living room, not feeling comfortable with them  _ both _ watching the live-action porn that’s about to take place across the courtyard. 

They both plan their events sitting in front of the coffee table, neither addressing the situation going on. When they finish and Michael heads home, Ashton makes his way to his bedroom. Calum’s seeing his boyfriend out with a kiss on the cheek. 

But the moment the door is shut, Calum looks angry, his fingers tangling in his own soft fringe tugging harshly. He heads out of living room and Ashton can’t help but wonder what happened in the hour he was gone.  

⇆

A few days later as Ashton’s checking his mail, he sees Calum walking towards him, something light blue under his arm. Ashton can’t quite tell what it is, so he squints his eyes and looks harder. When Calum notices Ashton’s curious stare, he raises his free hand in a wave, “Howdy, neighbor,” and approaches him. 

“Calum, hey.” Ashton can’t help but smile. He’s getting easier at hiding his guilt for watching what happens in the privacy of Calum’s openly visible living room. He can almost navigate through a conversation without looking like he’s culpable for invading his privacy. “What's that you've got?” 

Calum looks down at his arms and a smile takes over his face. “Yoga mat.” 

And Ashton’s heart beats fast because of  _ course _ the man he’s been lusting after and longing for is into the same things he is. It’s either fate or a or a cruel, cosmic joke. He tries not to let his excitement show on his face. “You’re into yoga?” 

“Not yet,” Calum shrugs. “Figured I'd take it up, see if I'm cut out for it. I don't really have the hips for it. Not very bendy either, but - ”

“You may surprise yourself.”

Calum grins, small lines forming by his eyes and making everything just  _ that _ much brighter. “Exactly.” If there’s ever a day Calum doesn’t take his breath away, they’ll have to keep their eyes out for flying pigs and news reports of hell freezing over. “I hope I do, at least. I've been feeling really on edge lately.” Ashton thinks back to the worried crease in his brow while he was fucking his friend, and how frustrated he looked just the other night after they finished. “Just so tightly wound.” 

His voice is husky, but he looks all soft and Ashton just wants to give him a hug. Maybe give him some tea and ask him what’s bothering him. 

Then maybe let him ride him if that’ll help. 

“Well if you ever need any pointers, let me know,” Ashton offers, swallowing the lump in his throat the forms at the thought of getting to be on the other side of Calum’s window. “I used to have a yoga class every Tuesday and Thursday.” 

“Not anymore?”

Ashton shrugs. “It’s hard to find the time for it.” 

“But you’d make time for me?” Calum’s smiling softly. Ashton would almost call it a smirk but he looks far too puppy-dog innocent for that. 

“Of course I would,” Ashton says honestly, completely aware of how his sincerity makes him looks smitten. “Everyone needs a firm hand to guide them. At the beginning, I mean. Eventually you’ll get it on your own.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

And suddenly Ashton doesn’t think Calum’s as doe-eyed as he presents himself. Whether he’s aware of it or not, he’s playing a dangerous game with his coy looks and seemingly innocent comments. 

“You will,” Ashton says, no room for questioning in his tone. “I'll make sure of it.” 

There’s a tense moment where nobody says anything, but then Calum’s dropping his gaze, biting his lip, and gesturing towards his building. “I should be going in.” 

Ashton resists the urge to sigh. It seems like every time he makes a comment, some kind of line to see if  _ perhaps _ Calum’s not as naive and unaware as he seems, to see if maybe he’s into Ashton, the other man slips away. It’s more than frustrating if Ashton’s being completely honest. 

“Let me know how it works out,” he says in lieu of a goodbye, gesturing down to the yoga mat. “If you're bendy enough.” 

“You’ll be the first to know.” 

They part ways and Ashton spends his afternoon in bed, watching Calum in nothing but tight shorts, doing the worst yoga Ashton’s ever seen. He doesn’t know if he can even call it yoga with the way the other man is just shoving his ass against his window. 

What upsets him the most is just how hot Ashton finds it. 

⇆

When Ashton wakes up the next morning, he nearly chokes when he looks across the courtyard to see Calum completely fucking naked. He’s walking around his house drinking what looks like coffee, not sparing a thought to the fact that his perfect body is on display and making Ashton’s dick wake up at an alarming rate. 

Ashton watches, motionless, as Calum answers a phone call and then eats his breakfast. He does more of that terrible yoga, hypnotizing Ashton with his body. 

It’s not until Ashton’s phone is ringing and it’s Michael asking where he is that he realizes he’s going to be late for work. The bell rings in just a half an hour and supposedly there’s already a line of students waiting for him to unlock the door. 

He rushes to get ready, nearly hitting his head in the process and is ten minutes late to class. His students are sitting in the hallway looking bored when he gets in. 

“I know, I know,” he rushes to say, hands shaking as he tries to fit his key in the lock. “I’m late. Alarm didn’t wake me up, I’m sorry.”

The students make their way to their seats and Ashton tries to start the lesson, but he can’t think about music when thoughts of Calum’s perfectly shaped ass are invading every corner of his mind. He’s a distraction and Ashton needs to put an end to it. 

⇆

He contemplates closing his curtains that night, wondering why he can’t do it. 

He’s a glutton for punishment and ends up spending two hours at his drum kit, incredibly frustrated at himself and at his addictive neighbor. He heads into his room afterwards, and immediately walks out when he sees Calum stretched across his couch, hand lost in his underwear, television forgotten about in the background. 

Ashton takes the coldest, most tense shower he’s ever had, and doesn’t enjoy a moment of it. 

⇆

Two nights later, as Ashton’s looking through his lease, wondering if there’s a ‘Sexual Frustration Clause’ that’ll get him a discount on his rent or a year of free laundry or anything else to compensate him for his blue balls, Calum’s boyfriend comes over and Ashton’s eyes hurt with how hard he rolls them. He’s pretty fucking annoyed at this point. 

He does his best to keep his head down, to not let himself fall into the trap of being mesmerized just by the way Calum moves his body, of the natural creases that form on his face when he’s fighting for release. He’s strong, and he knows he can keep his eyes down. 

And he does. 

At least, he does until there’s a harsh pounding that dully echoes across the courtyard about twenty minutes after Calum and his boyfriend had started stripping each other. Ashton’s jerked out of his trance and looks up to see Calum’s hands pressed against the glass - body at an angle - with his boyfriend right behind him, thrusting into him. 

Forget about the ‘Sexual Frustration Clause’ - Ashton needs to fucking move. 

There’s the typical discontent painted on Calum’s face, but from this angle, Ashton can see that he’s hard, which means he doesn’t completely hate it. Even so, it doesn’t explain why he looks so stressed out. 

Suddenly, Calum’s mouth is moving, lips forming around words that Ashton can’t identify. At least, he can’t identify  _ most _ of them. After Calum’s recited a small monologue, he’s repeating “please” over and over again and Ashton can feel himself leaning forward, curious about what he’s asking for, what has his hands scratching against the streaked glass of his window. 

It’s all revealed when Calum’s boyfriend rolls his eyes, lifts his hand, and  _ slams _ it down against Calum’s ass one… two…  _ three _ consecutive times. His hand hasn’t even pulled back from the second hit before Calum’s jaw is dropping and he’s cumming against the window in front of him, streaks of white decorating the glass, and Ashton is shoving his hands down his sweatpants to grip his throbbing dick. 

It’s then that Ashton realizes that Calum doesn’t hate having sex, it’s that he gets off harder when he’s roughed up. The aggravation that was on his face when his boyfriend was fucking him wasn’t because he wasn’t enjoying himself, it was because he needed to pushed over the edge with a firm had against his ass. It’s to that thought that Ashton gets himself off, his fist in his mouth, biting down to feel something other than complete desperation. 

After his boyfriend leaves, parting with a kiss to the forehead and a shake of the head, Calum is loose-limbed and lovely, curling up in a soft looking blanket on his couch and turning on a cartoon. 

As jealous and frustrated as Ashton is, he’s more upset he isn’t over there cuddling Calum. 

⇆

Michael’s front door is unlocked and the sound of animated shooting is echoing throughout the house. It’s Saturday, and while Ashton would be taking advantage of his day off to go to jogging or to browse for sheet music in the city, today he only wants to mope. 

There’s a video game on the television and Michael’s sitting in front of it on the floor. He doesn’t look up when Ashton comes in the room and falls face down on the couch. 

“‘Good morning, Michael,’” he mocks. “Oh, Ashton,  _ hello _ . Good morning to you as well!” Ashton groans; it’s the closest he can get to screaming with the cushion underneath him suffocating him. He hears the music to Michael's game pause. “What’s up?” Ashton mumbles his complaint into the cushion. It’s silent for a moment but then Michael sighs. “You know I didn’t hear any of that.” 

Ashton grunts and shifts his head so he’s looking at Michael. “Calum fucked his boyfriend again.” 

“Well that’s something a lot of boyfriends do,” Michael tells him, shrugging with it. Ashton frowns. “Is that all that’s bothering you? Can I go back to my game?”

“No.”

“No?” Michael repeats. Ashton shakes his head. “Care to share?” 

Ashton mumbles again but this time without to fabric as an excuse. Michael raises his eyebrows and Ashton sighs As much as he enjoys being vague and playing stupid, he really needs to vent. “Calum’s kinky.”

“I’m…” Michael trails off, blink once before he’s shaking his head. “Come again?” 

“He’s  _ kinky _ .” 

He doesn’t know what he expected after his announcement, but it definitely wasn’t for Michael to throw himself backwards in laughter. Ashton groans and shoves his head back into the cushion.

“No, wait. I’m sorry for laughing,” Michael apologizes, reaching over to pull Ashton’s face back out. “What do you mean he’s kinky?”

“I  _ mean _ ,” Ashton huffs, “his boyfriend spanked him a few times and he painted his fucking window white.” 

The imagery is still so vivid in his head. It was undeniably the hottest thing he’d ever seen in real like, and even groaning about it to his best friend has his dick threatening to chub up on this ugly beige and green couch. 

Michael’s eyes widen with the outburst, and then he’s laughing again. “And you watched?”

Ashton rolls his eyes and pushes himself up. “You know, I didn’t come here to be laughed at.” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just - ” A few giggles cut him off, and even Ashton’s most severe stare can’t get him to stop. “Pardon me for being invasive, but isn’t that the kind of thing you  _ like _ ? Isn’t that why we never tried things out?” 

“We never tried things because the day we met you threw up all over my shoes and then told me I was short.” 

_ That _ stops Michael’s laughter, having him sit up straighter, glaring at Ashton. “There was a bug going around.” 

“You were a bug going - ”

“ _ Anyway _ ,” he cuts off Ashton’s immature rebuttal. “What I was saying was that you’re into the whole pain and pleasure thing, right?” 

As true as that is, as  _ painfully _ true as it is, Ashton splutters. He can feel his cheeks getting red at the accusation and immediately tries to deny it. “I am  _ not _ .”

“Aren’t you? I thought you said you liked being in charge.” Ashton curses at Michael’s question. He forgot he’s confided in his friend a time or twelve before. 

“I - I mean - ”

“So you  _ don’t _ want to spank your neighbor?” Michael asks, and Ashton stays determinedly quiet. “Alright, so you  _ do _ .”

But it’s so much more than that. Of course he’d like to spank Calum. Who wouldn’t? He’d also like to lay him out of the bed and spend hours eating him out until he cries. He wants to hold Calum’s wrists down and keep him on the edge until he makes him cum untouched. But he also spend the rest of his life telling his cheesy jokes and making him giggle.

“I just want to cuddle him,” Ashton says, “and then have really rough sex and then cuddle him some more.” 

“That sounds like exactly what he’s into.” Michael’s speaking in his teacher voice, something that he hardly even uses at his job - as a teacher - and it makes Ashton feel small. “You should just march over to his place and assert your dominance.”

“I don’t have any claim to him. He’s got a boyfriend.” Ashton frowns, the reality hitting him that even if Calum wanted all the things that Ashton wants - they can’t have that.  

Michael hums at that. “I don’t know what to tell you then. I guess you’ll just be miserable.” Ashtons groans. “Like me.”

With a huff, Ashton slams his hands down on the cushion in front of him. “He’s a kinky little puppy, and I just want to - ”

“I get it,” Michael bites, effectively cutting him off. “Stop thinking about him and grab a controller.”

Ashton grabs a controller, but doesn’t stop thinking about Calum. He  _ can’t _ stop thinking about him, about how peaceful he looked getting roughed up. It’s all he’s been able to think about for the past few days and it’s the only thing he’ll be able to think about for the rest of his miserable, lonely, celibate life. 

⇆

“Morning, Ashton!” After watching Calum get off to being spanked, it feels weird and wrong to see him in his pajamas, looking sleep soft and warm with a gentle smile on his little face. “What are you doing out this early?”

Ashton takes him in and clenches his fist until he can feel his nails cutting into his palm. When they meet face to face, Calum’s always so delicate, looking innocent and small, but Ashton knows just how filthy he is. 

“I, uh,” he stutters, feeling off balance just by the sight of his neighbor. “There’s a meeting before classes start. Why are you up? And in pajamas?” 

Completely oblivious to his rambling, Calum smiles and lifts up a styrofoam cup. “Hot chocolate.” Ashton groans internally just how sweet he is. “It’s unfortunate you’re heading out. We could’ve done something together.” 

“What is there to do this early?” 

“Maybe not this morning then,” Calum shrugs. He’s still smiling, looking far too friendly for this early in the morning. “What about tonight? We could watch a movie? Have some beers?” he offers, voice tilting at the end. “It’s weird. I feel like we’re friends, and I’ve been to your place, but we’ve never really hung out. It’s like I only see you on the sidewalk.” 

It takes effort for Ashton not to laugh bitterly. He’s seen a  _ lot _ more of Calum than just on the sidewalk. “I try not to drink during the school week, but some other time, sure.” 

“When are you free next?” 

“I’m - ” Ashton’s phone rings and he says a silent thank you for keeping him from having to answer the question and make a plan. “Hey, Mikey,” he greets when he picks up. 

The other end of the line crackles and then Michael’s tinny voice is coming through, “ _ You on your way? _ ” 

“Yeah, I’m leaving now,” he answers. “Can you grab me a coffee?”

“ _ What do I get out of it? _ ”

“Mikey - ”

“ _ Fine, whatever. _ ” It’s almost like Ashton can see him rolling his eyes through the phone. “ _ You’re buying me lunch today then. _ ” 

Ashton bites his tongue against yelling. He sees Calum watching, his lips thinned. Ashton mouths an apology, but Calum waves him off.  

“I’ll buy you a  _ drink _ , and that’s it,” Ashton tells Michael. 

“ _ Or _ \- ”

“Oh my god.” As much as Ashton loves Michael and his theatrics, Calum’s standing in front of him, watching expectantly. “I have to go. I’ll see you soon.”

“ _ Bye _ !”

Ashton hangs up, rolling his eyes as he slides his phone into his pocket. “Sorry, that - ”

“It’s no big deal.” Calum grins, easy as anything, and Ashton’s torn between feeling guilty for being such a creep and wanting to pull Calum in and never let him go. “You’ve got work to get to though.”

“I do, yeah.” Ashton nods, frowning regretfully. “I’ll see you later?”

“I hope so.” Calum leaves, still smiling, a slight blush on his cheeks, and Ashton feels like the biggest prick on the planet. Seeing Calum in such a vulnerable position makes him feel guilty. It makes him feel  _ awful _ . And the worst part of all? 

He wouldn’t hesitate to watch again. 

⇆

Ashton’s getting back from a jog Saturday evening when he catches the tail end of Calum’s boyfriend walking into the building. Ashton’s torn between doing another half mile or going upstairs and watching. 

He feels filthy and disturbed as he eagerly takes the stairs two at a time. He gets to his room, keeping his lights off. He knows that they can’t see into his room regardless, but watching with the lights on adds an oddly twisted layer to the perverseness of his little hobby. 

They’re already stripping by the time Ashton sits on his bed and faces the window, and he’s struck by just how  _ physical _ their relationship is. He’s never seen them just sit and talk, and for a moment, he’s hopeful that this is just hooking up, that there aren’t any feeling involved. 

But then a naked Calum gets pushed against the window by his boyfriend, and the view completely wipes Ashton’s mind. 

It all progresses as it usually does, Calum’s boyfriend opening him up with quick fingers, Calum looking like a goddamn pornstar as his heavy breathing fogs up the window. Ashton sits back, hand wrapped loosely around his cock as he watches the show. When his boyfriend slides in, Calum’s mouth drops and Ashton has to tighten his grip. His mind is working to replace the boyfriend with himself, and he gets lost in the visual for a few minutes, imagining it’s him behind Calum, hand pressed against the window as he thrusts into Calum’s tight ass - 

Suddenly Calum starts begging again. Ashton can make out the “ _ please _ ”s that fall from his lips, can even catch onto some that he couldn’t identify last time like “hit me” and “do it.” Ashton sits back, hand gripping tightly around his base as he waits for the hits to come. 

Only, they never do. 

Calum’s boyfriend shakes his head, clearly saying “No” amongst some other things that Ashton can’t read. At the denial, Calum’s hand bangs on the window hard and it looks like he starts crying as he pulls on his own hair. He’s not getting his spanking, and he’s throwing a tantrum, doing whatever he can to get himself there. 

Ashton gets off thinking about how he could give Calum exactly what he wants. He’d never have to doubt that Ashton wouldn’t break him apart in the best way possible - they’d be so  _ good _ together. 

It takes much longer for Calum to cum this time around. He’s pulling his own hair, looking like he’s choking his dick with how tight he’s holding it, tugging at it with harsh strokes that  _ have _ to hurt. He looks miserable and tense and Ashton just wants to be there. 

When he does cum, it’s with a tortured look on his face. There’s no looseness in his bones, the sex  _ clearly _ not helping him unwind. 

After his boyfriend finishes, he wipes the tears from Calum’s red eyes, but Calum just shakes his head, looking like he doesn’t want to be comforted. Even so, he lets himself be pulled into a hug. It’s sweet, but Ashton can’t help but think he’d be better for Calum in bed  _ and _ out of it. 

He cums thinking about Calum’s tear stained face and how relaxed he looked when his boyfriend spanked him the week prior, and begins to think he  _ might _ have a bit of a problem. 

⇆

When the career fair starts up, Ashton takes advantage of his student-free day to inventory the instruments in the back to make sure nobody’s taken one home without signing it out. 

He’s working his way through the woodwinds when his classroom door opens and Michael saunters in, falling theatrically on one of the amps in front of the lockers. Neither of them speak, Ashton preoccupied with not losing the number he’s on, and Michael’s most likely waiting to be asked what’s bothering him. 

Both of them end up disappointed when Michael has to speak first, therefore distracting Ashton from his count. “Have you been down to the job fair yet?” 

“You know I haven’t.” There’s no doubt in Ashton’s mind that Michael’s regretting signing up as a chaperone. 

His thoughts are confirmed when Michael grumbles, “I shouldn’t have volunteered.” 

“Too noisy?” 

“No.” 

“Too crowded?” 

“No.” 

The conversation is leading nowhere, and Ashton hasn’t even started on the brass instruments, so he doesn’t ask anymore questions; instead, letting the silence take over as he restarts his count. 

He gets halfway through when Michael sighs melodramatically and throws him off again. With a huff, Ashton throws his clipboard to the side and spins around, his feet crossed at the ankle in front of him. “What is it then?” 

“I’m in love,” Michael all but cries. 

And that actually piques Ashton’s interest. Michael’s not really the type to bring his crushes up to Ashton. He’s far more subtle when he likes someone because his romantic history isn’t the most blessed - his previous partners haven’t always been the most kind. 

Instead of jumping into everything and demanding information from Michael, Ashton does his best to play it cool.  “Yeah? What’s their name?”

“Union City Teller.” 

At first, it doesn’t sink in, the words sounding jumbled to Ashton. But when he finally hears it, he can’t help but laugh. “One of the careers? Really?” Michael groans. “What was it you told me last week? Just stomp right over and assert your dominance?” 

“He's too pretty for that.” 

“Why don’t you tell him your name?” Ashton suggests. “Maybe get his?”

Michael grunts, flipping himself onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “What if he doesn’t want to know? What if he doesn’t want  _ me _ ?” 

“Who wouldn’t?” 

“What if he isn’t queer?” Michael asks. 

It takes real effort not to throw the pen in his hand at Michael’s head. He’s just so  _ difficult _ . “What if he’s gay and loves alternative punk wannabes?” 

“What if he breaks into my office, and doesn’t tell me how he got there?”

Ashton takes a moment to thank every deity above him that Michael doesn’t often talk about his crushes because on a normal day he’s dramatic, but a Michael that’s smitten with someone? Well, he’s just impossible. 

He levels Michael with a look and the two of them glare at each other across the room until Michael groans. “What if I’m not his type?” 

“You’ll never know unless you talk to him, Michael,” Ashton says. “Take it one step at a time. Just walk up to him and introduce yourself, and in three years when you’re getting married, I’ll be standing by your side whispering ‘I told you so’ in your pretty little ears.” Michael blushes, but doesn’t make a move to get up. “Or you could just sign up for a housing loan.” He says it as a joke, but Michael hums like he’s considering it. “Oh my god. You're not doing that. Just go talk to him.” 

“I couldn’t possibly.” 

Ashton rolls his eyes. His bank of supportive advice is running on empty. “Well whatever you do, make a decision fast. They’re missing a competent chaperone down there.” 

“Would it be competent of me to ask the teller to play with my hair and tell me I’m beautiful?” Michael wonders out loud, and Ashton uses all of the restraint left in his body not to tease him about it. 

“It wouldn’t.” 

Michael sighs again, sounding extremely put out at the answer. “I didn’t think so.” 

He takes a couple of minutes to collect himself, so Ashton sits in silence, watching, standing by in case Michael decides he needs more encouragement. He doesn’t, and he leaves the room with his head held high. 

And later that day, as they’re both taking their lunch, Michael won’t stop going on about Luke, the teller with eyes as blue as the Sydney sky and a nose as sharp as his wit. Ashton doesn’t have it in him to say ‘I told you so’, not when his best friend can’t stop smiling at his phone, positively glowing at the promise of something good. 

⇆

For the first time since moving in, Ashton gets home and isn’t immediately bombarded with nudity across the courtyard. It’s odd, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. 

Calum and his boyfriend are together, but they’re not fucking. Instead, they’re eating take out on the floor behind Calum’s couch. Ashton watches as they laugh, and Calum says something that makes his boyfriend blush. When Calum leans forward to pinch his cheek, Ashton’s heart stops. It’s the first time he’s seen soft, innocent,  _ puppy _ Calum around his boyfriend and it sends a sick feeling in his stomach. 

All thoughts of them just having a physical relationship fly out the window, and it’s heartbreaking in the ugliest way. 

He sleeps on the couch that night. 

⇆

The afternoon before Michael’s set to go on his first date with the teller, Luke, he calls Ashton in a panic, rambling on about how he doesn't have anything to wear, and his hair is parting awkwardly, and that he's unsure if Luke will be interested in him once he gets to talking. So Ashton, being the incredible - and modest - best friend that he is, goes over and helps Michael out. 

The outfit he's chosen, his hairstyle, and his personality are all fine, he never actually doubted those, the cocky asshole. It's just Michael's insecurities that have him questioning whether or not Luke will be able to handle him. Not that he's extraordinarily difficult to handle, or anything like that. He's just a tad dramatic, and maybe a bit hard to read at times, but this bank teller would be an absolute fool to not fall head over heels for Michael. 

The day is mostly spent with Ashton talking Michael up, praising him about the smaller things and working to boost his ego even the slightest bit. Because after all their years of friendship, the one thing Ashton will never forget is just how much of a slut for compliments Michael really is. 

He leaves Michael’s house an hour before the date is set to begin - just to give him some alone time to truly prepare himself - and stumbles upon Calum at the mailboxes. He’s wrapped in a sweater that looks too big, with a frustrated crease in his brow that Ashton’s seen a time too many. 

If he were a smarter man, Ashton would just go upstairs, make himself an early dinner, and maybe play his kit just to release whatever pent up frustration he’s left with from even seeing Calum. He knows he needs to distance himself for the sake of his own sanity, but his heart clenches at how soft and vulnerable his neighbor looks, and he can’t help himself from raising an arm and waving. 

“Calum!” At the shout of his name, Calum looks up, and all signs of earlier frustration wipe themselves away with a smile. As much as Ashton wants to regret calling him over, he can’t. Not with how sweet for him Calum always is. “Feel like having those beers?”

Even with the space between them, Calum’s laugh echoes in his ears. “I’d love that! Want to come to mine?” Not wasting time answering, Ashton starts to take the steps towards Calum’s building, but he’s stopped when a look of panic crosses over Calum’s face and his two palms are suddenly waving to stop him. “Wait! I don’t have beer,” he yells. “Do you have beer?”

“I have beer!”

Calum lowers his hands and he relaxes a bit, but there’s still a trace of the tension he held before. “Yours it is!”

Even so, Ashton laughs as Calum runs over. He has his mail in his hands, the small bundle of it flapping every time his feet hit the ground. Slowing his pace, he looks down at it before shoving the letters into the pocket of his sweatpants. 

He jumps to a stop in front of Ashton.  “You’re home awfully early.”

“It’s Saturday,” Ashton reminds him.

“Well then what are you doing out so late?” he asks through a smile. 

Ashton bites his lip to hold back a laugh but is completely unable to. “You’re ridiculous,” he says. It’s meant to be an insult, but he knows his fondness is bleeding through. “Let’s go.”

He leads the way as they climb the stairs, and this time his hands are unoccupied, meaning Calum doesn’t have to unlock the door. The part of his brain that wants to remain platonic is glad that Calum won’t be reaching towards his pocket, but the other ninety-nine percent of him is disappointed that there’s distance between them. 

“I have Victoria and Crown,” Ashton says to the apartment as he hears Calum close the door behind them. “Any preference?”

“Either is fine.” Calum waves him off and his eyes immediately going to the drum kit. 

Leaving him to it, Ashton heads to the kitchen, going straight for the fridge, and grabbing two of the beers closest to his hand. When he gets back, he sees Calum’s finger tracing the snare. He’s staring down at the kit, a subdued look in his eyes. 

“Your drink?” Ashton bumps the bottom end of the bottle to Calum’s covered arm, making him look up with a jump.

“Thanks.” Calum smiles, smaller than before, at being caught in his trance. “I was just - ”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Ashton cuts him off. Calum bites his lip at that, but doesn’t try to say anything further. At the silence, Ashton opens his bottle and takes a drink, watching as Calum does the same but slower. “What would you like to do?” 

“Do you think you could play something for me?” Calum asks, the hand at his side drifting towards the edge of the snare again. 

Ashton shrugs through another drink of his beer. “I could, but I don’t think it’d be very entertaining for you.”

“Well I don’t see a television in here,” Calum points out, “so how else are you supposed to entertain me?” 

“I have bad eyes,” Ashton defends himself with a laugh. “I don’t like the temptation of a screen trying to make them even worse.” 

He doesn’t tell Calum that he watches Netflix on his laptop when he gets too bored - he doesn’t think it’s important. He also doesn’t mention that just outside his window there’s a show every night that’s much sexier than any prime time television show could ever be - he thinks it might be  _ too  _ important. 

“That’s very adult of you,” Calum says with a sigh. It comes out far more sarcastic than Ashton thinks he intended. 

“Is it?”

Calum nods. “Almost  _ too _ adult.” For a moment he doesn’t say anything, just maintaining eye contact with Ashton. But then he’s grinning, his gaze flicking to the drum kit again. “You should age down and play for me.” 

There’s a second where Ashton considers saying no, but Calum’s looking down at him with whiskey eyes, earnest and wanting, and it’s not news that he’s an absolute fool for this pouty-faced man. With a resigned sigh, he nods. 

“Alright, you’ve got me.” Smiling at Calum’s muted cheer, he sets his bottle down on the counter, certain it’s already leaving a small ring of water on the white top, before grabbing his ipod from the coffee table. He puts his earbuds in and starts scrolling through his library. “Any song preferences?”

Just by the slight jump of Calum’s shoulders, Ashton knows he’s speaking louder than he needs to. He only hopes Calum can handle it when he actually starts playing the music. 

“Whatever makes you go hardest,” Calum answers with a grin. There’s a tilt to his mouth that, for a second, makes Ashton wonder if it’s on purpose - the double meaning to his comments - but then it’s gone, and he wonders if it was ever really there at all. 

His mouth is a bit dry, usually is when Calum says his piece with soft eyes and a sharp tongue. It’s those brief flashes of him that Ashton’s only  _ truly _ seen through a window that make him want to lay Calum out and give him what his boyfriend refuses to. 

Instead of acting on his temptations, Ashton does what he always does - turns on his percussion-heavy playlist and lets himself get lost in the sound. 

It’s all muscle memory at this point, especially with the twenty or so songs he usually goes to, and Ashton let’s himself get lost in the rhythmic beating and repetitive movements. The song he chose isn’t as aggressive or fast-paced as some of the others on the playlist, so he lets himself exaggerate with his arms. It probably looks more impressive than it actually is, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing with his audience. 

Ashton doesn’t let himself look at Calum during the song, doesn’t like feeling watched. His biggest fear here and now is messing up. Sure, it’d be funny, and they’d laugh about it, but Ashton’s playing the long game, and messing up the first time he’s trying to impress Calum isn’t on his to-do list. 

The song is a short one, just over two minutes, but even so, it feels like it’s over too quickly. The music fades in his earbuds and his hand reaches to grip at the cymbal, stopping it’s reverberating. When he looks up, Calum’s watching him, eyes darker than they were before. And even though Ashton’s only seen it from thirty feet away, it’s a look he knows well, and it makes his already racing heart beat a little faster. 

“So?” His voice comes out a little husky from the amount of effort he put into his playing. He could really use a glass of water. Or more beer. “What did you think?” 

Calum doesn’t answer right away, eyes trained on where Ashton’s forearm comes up to wipe at the sweat on his brow. He clears his throat before saying, “It was good.” He takes a swig of his beer and looks away. 

“Yeah?” Ashton knows he’s smirking, but there’s always a burst of energy that comes with drumming, and Calum’s reaction has him feeling more than smug. 

“Yeah,” Calum answers stiffly, nodding with his words. “I couldn’t tell what song it was, but it was pretty impressive.” 

“Thanks, pup.”Ashton takes a sick pleasure in how that makes Calum’s face burn, the crease reappearing on his forehead and letting Ashton know he’s doing a good job of breaking Calum down. 

“So you - ” Calum’s voice is strained, cracking easily, and Ashton wants to watch him burn. “You said this was how you relieve stress? Just drum a song?” 

It’s easy to see that Calum’s fighting to keep him composure, and for the first time since meeting his neighbor, it feels like he finally has the upper hand. “Yeah, but I usually go for an hour or two.” 

“Seems a bit tiring.”

“It can be.” Ashton shrugs. He can see Calum tuning out, face getting red, and he tries to salvage the conversation. “Keeps my arms toned though.” Calum nods even harder at the words, but doesn’t truly respond. The conversation is dying and as much as Ashton likes watching Calum flounder, he feels like they need to move on or the night will end to soon, before Ashton can really make an impression. “You said you were feeling a little tense a while back, didn’t you?”

Calum looks up finally, eyes still dark, with a raised brow. “I did?”

“That’s why you were taking up yoga?”

When it hits, Calum’s eyes close for a moment before he’s muttering, “Right. I did that.”

“How’s that been working for you?” Ashton’s reminded of the few days the other week where Calum’s ass was always on display in the worst yoga he’d ever seen in his entire life. 

“Not great, actually.”  

“Not bendy enough?” Ashton asks, doing his best not to laugh. It wouldn’t matter if he did because in the end, Calum giggles, and Ashton nearly sighs at the eye crinkles. 

“It’s not that,” Calum waves him off. “I just don’t think I know enough about yoga itself to do anything.”

There’s a brief second where Ashton almost doesn’t say anything. He almost keeps his mouth shut and tries to move onto something else. But then he thinks about Calum in tight pants, under Ashton’s hands, letting himself be moved into any position Ashton demands of him, and he can’t stop the words from falling from his lips. 

“Let me teach you!” It doesn’t get the immediate approval he’d been hoping for - Calum laughs in his face - so Ashton persists. “No, really. I promise I’m great at it.” 

With an amused grin on his lips, Calum shakes his head. “I just - ”

“ _Please!_ ” Ashton whines, doing his best to stick his bottom lip out through his pleading. “Please please _please._ I don’t beg for just anyone.” Calum watches the entire show, brown eyes amused, shining like they’re in the light - but Ashton thinks they might just always feel that alive. “It’ll be amazing. You’ll feel so content by the end of it.” 

“I mean - ”

Ashton cuts him off with a final, “ _ Please _ !” 

“Alright!” Calum’s final agreement is yelled through his giggles. Ashton thinks he could give up music for the rest of his life if just to listen to the melodic sound of Calum’s laughter for the rest of his life. “I’ll do it once to try it out, but if I’m no good at it - ”

“If you’re no good at it, I’ll let you teach me how to do something I’m not good at,” Ashton interrupts him again. 

“What aren’t you good at?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “I’m perfect at everything.” Calum laughs again - though he never really stopped in the first place - and it’s magic. Ashton wants to live by the sound. Instead of doing something embarrassing like saying that out loud or professing his feelings, he changes the subject quickly and irrationally. “Do you want to play cards or something? I have Battleship.”

“I love Battleship.” 

“Battleship it is!” Maneuvering away from his drum kit is difficult with such harried movements, but soon Ashton’s free and he eagerly runs to his linen closet and pulls out the game. 

For the rest of the night, they play the game, and Ashton can’t even be mad when Calum beats his ass three times in a row, not when his cheeks hurt from smiling and he feels like he could spend the rest of his life losing games if it meant Calum would stick his tongue out and blow raspberries like he’s been doing all night. 

It all comes to an end sooner than Ashton would like, and before he knows it, he’s leaning against the doorframe, arms flexing with the effort it takes to not lean forward and kiss Calum. He’s tempted to, thinks it could end pretty well for them both if he were to try, especially with how effortlessly they’ve been orbiting each other all night, but all Ashton can think about is how Calum has another guy in his life. 

If Ashton were to give in, he’d be nothing more than the neighbor that got Calum off. 

And he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to be someone Calum calls when he’s horny. He wants to be the one that makes Calum feel like he needs to be taken care of, and wants to be the  _ only _ one Calum thinks of coming to. 

So at the end of the night, he sees Calum out and tells him he’ll see him soon. And when Calum gets home and gets himself off against his own front door, teeth biting indents into his own arm, Ashton turns away in bed. 

He needs to be a stronger person. 

⇆

The next day, Ashton’s woken up in the late morning to a barrage of messages from Michael telling him to come over. 

With Michael, there’s no telling what the insistence means. There aren’t any further details in the messages, and when Ashton asks how his date went, he gets no reply. So he’s forced to get out of bed, get dressed, and drive a few blocks over to Michael’s place to figure out if he’s going to be congratulating his best friend or doing damage control. 

The front door is unlocked when he gets there, so he heads inside, shuts the door behind him, and navigates through the house to Michael’s room. The man in question is lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, with a serene smile on his pink lips. 

It’s good news. 

“Is your bed safe for me?” Ashton asks, making his way to the other side of the bed. 

Michael rolls over so he stays facing Ashton, but he doesn’t answer the question. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” 

“That’s wonderful, but did you fuck?”

“Don’t be crass about Luke,” he frowns, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “He deserves better.” 

Ashton rolls his eyes as he holds the edge of the comforter between his fingers. “My apologies. Did he make love to you and spill his seed on your sheets?” 

“No, we didn’t sleep together,” Michael answers with a scoff. Ashton starts climbing in, but he only gets one knee on the mattress before Michael’s continuing. “Or we did - ” and Ashton starts climbing out. “But there was no sex.” 

Before moving too soon and getting in the possibly semen-soaked sheets, Ashton groans. “Can I get in your fucking bed?”  

“Yes, Ashton,” Michael finally answers, sounding bored. “You can get in my fucking bed.” 

Hesitantly, Ashton climbs in, snuggling under the blankets, rearranging himself and pulling the comforter over his shoulders. He inches his way to the center of the bed until he’s touching noses with Michael. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“How was the date?”

The smile that was on his face when Ashton arrived is nothing compared to how he’s positively beaming now. “Wonderful,” he says, his voice sounding dreamy as his eyes flutter shut. “The restaurant was nice, but afterwards he came upstairs and we just laid together for hours, talking.”

“Did he pet your hair and call you beautiful?” Ashton mocks Michael’s words from the career fair, a hand coming up to ghost through his fringe. 

“Yes.” He’s shameless with his sighing, and Ashton wants to laugh, but he’s genuinely happy for Michael and can’t find it in himself to make fun. “He also told me terrible jokes and kissed me, so…” 

It’s sweet and it makes Ashton more than a bit jealous, but Michael’s watching closely for his reaction so he can’t let it show. “Well,” He takes a deep breath, needing to be a good best friend. “It’s about time you found someone worthy of your time.” Michael smiles something small but thankful. “When can I meet him?” 

They spend the morning in bed, Ashton letting Michael talk all he wants about his date, about how wonderful Luke is. It’s nice seeing Michael so smitten, but he spends the whole time thinking about Calum. 

So when he goes home, head a mess of feelings he doesn’t know if he should have, Ashton heads over to Calum’s building and rings his buzzer. 

It takes a minute, but soon Calum’s tinny voice is coming through the speaker. “ _ Yeah _ ?”  

“It’s Ashton,” he yells. “Grab your yoga mat and come over.” 

“ _ Are you serious _ ?”

“Absolutely.” Even though he knows personally that talking at a regular volume would still be perfectly audible through the speaker, he can’t help but raise his voice. “I’ll leave my door unlocked for you.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, just heads home, turning the lights on and grabbing his yoga mat from his room. He changes into his running shorts and a tank before heading for the living room. He pushes his coffee table out of the way and as he’s unrolling his mat, Calum knocks once then opens the door. 

“Hey!”

He smiles at Ashton’s eager greeting. He looks every bit the professional, wearing a yellow tank and stretchy black pants that perfectly hold the shape of his ass in a way that makes Ashton want to lay him out and show him just how good he can be. 

“I could’ve been busy, you know,” Calum says, pulling Ashton’s gaze up his body. 

“You weren’t.”

“You don’t know that,” he waves Ashton off. He’s still standing at the doorway, watching as Ashton begins stretching on the floor. “I could have had guests over. I could have been throwing a party.” 

Ashton scoffs at that, stretching his arm across his body. “It’s three in the afternoon, and you’re never too busy for me.” Calum shakes his head at that. “Set up your mat. The class is waiting. You’re disappointing everyone” 

“Is this how it’s going to go?” Calum asks, shutting the door behind him and making his way further into the room. “You yelling at me, making me feel like I’m always in the wrong?” 

“Not at all,” Ashton tells him gently. “I’m great with praise.” Calum laughs once but it’s short. “If you earn it, of course.” 

Just as Ashton had expected, Calum keeps his eyes down at the comment, his cheeks heating up. He unrolls his mat then sits back, still keeping his eyes down. “Now what?” 

“Now we begin,” Ashton claps his hands together once, chuckling when Calum jumps at the noise. “I’ll start simple.” 

Back when Ashton did yoga regularly, he was pretty advanced. After years of practice, he’d managed to teach his body how to hold some pretty ridiculous poses. He doesn’t think starting Calum off with where he was was would be fair - fun, sure, but not fair - so he thinks back to some of the earlier poses, the less complicated moves, and gets ready to teach it all. 

“We’ll start with Mountain Pose.” He has Calum copy his movements, putting his feet together, so he’s standing up straight. “Make sure to keep your heels slightly apart, otherwise it’s not so much yoga as just kind of standing there.”

Calum chuckles to himself, and Ashton joins in when he sees Calum shifting his legs slightly to allow for the movement. So far, so good. 

“Now relax your shoulders and copy me.” 

Ashton rolls his shoulders back one at a time before taking his palms and holding them in a prayer-like position in front of his chest. He waits until Calum’s doing the same and then rises his hands up and over his head, rising to release some pressure from his heels. He hold his position before letting himself come out of it. 

“Stay as you are,” he instructs, watching as Calum’s muscle tense as though he was just about to let them fall. 

If this were anyone else - like Michael, the one time Ashton tried to get him into physical activity - Ashton doesn’t think he’d do anything else but show other positions. But this is Calum, and he’s standing in front of Ashton wearing clothes tight enough to show off his every asset, and he’s watching with calculating eyes that make Ashton feel just the slightest bit exposed. 

And he wants to get hands on. 

“Is it okay if I touch?” he asks, just to make sure that he’s not overstepping any boundaries in his self-indulgence. 

Calum nods, but stops when he starts to fall back on his heels. “Yeah.”

“Alright, so.” 

He starts to circle Calum’s mat, letting his eyes check out the key body parts utilized in Mountain Pose. The first thing he notices is Calum’s arms. They’re too far apart, and he looks more likely to be dancing to ‘ _ YMCA _ ’ than meditating. 

Ashton reaches up with gentle hands, circling them around Calum’s wrist and pulling them in a bit. “You want your arms to be slightly off from parallel with your ears.” Once it looks more proper Ashton lets go, he takes a step back. “Now hold.”

Continuing his inspection, Ashton makes his way behind his neighbor, not wanting to let his eyes linger too long on his ass, but he notices the posture and has to correct it. 

“Can I touch?” he asks again. 

This time, Calum doesn’t answer verbally. He nods once, and it’s stiff. Ashton can see he’s holding his breath and Ashton’s hands ghost over his hips. He still doesn’t release, even as Ashton pulls him down a bit from his arch. 

“Breathe,” Ashton tells him. Calum releases a breath slowly, and his hips naturally shift where they should be. “Keep your tailbone pointed down in this position.”

When he lets go and steps back, he moves his eyes down to Calum’s feet, expecting to have to tell him not to stand too far on the balls of his feet, or to separate them more, but he’s happy to see that they’re exactly where they have to be. Although the accuracy means Ashton doesn’t get to stay hands-on, he’s incredibly proud of the natural perfection. 

He walks back to his mat and takes on Mountain Pose as well, showing Calum how let himself come out of it naturally. When they have, and taken a moment for Calum to feel grounded again, Ashton leads into the next pose. 

“Now we have Warrior II.”

Ashton walks him step by step through the basic poses, feeling himself get excited when Calum needs less and less help. Slowly he’s learning that many of the positions have similar holds and he starts to naturally shift into them. It’s odd to think, but Ashton wishes he could teach yoga to this man for the rest of his life, just to feel as proud and fulfilled as he does now. 

They make it through five or six poses before Ashton needs to  _ really _ interact again. Halfway through his explanation of Plank Pose, Ashton notices just how high in the air Calum’s ass is. It’s less like yoga and more like the ridiculous peacocking he was doing in his own living room. and falls down in laughter. 

“Calum, your ass is way too high,” he says. “That’s closer to Downward Dog, but not really.” 

Calum sighs and lowers himself down, but Ashton notices his legs shifting too far apart and his head falling too far forward. His arms manage to keep his back straight, but the rest of it is too messy to ignore. 

“Eyes up.” 

Lifting himself up, he makes his way over to where Calum’s now staring forward. He double checks that he can touch again. Calum nods easy and Ashton drops until he’s crouched behind him, hands coming down to pull Calum’s feet closer together. Only, when he does, Calum’s ass falls further down from where it should be. And when he stands to fix that, with gentle hands, the feet come apart. 

Ashton almost wants to laugh at how ridiculous it is, Calum not able to keep the two positions at once, but it’s actually a bit frustrating, especially when it happens again. 

And again. 

With a sigh, he sets his feet on the outer sides of Calum’s, stepping very lightly on his pinky toes to make sure they stay where they need to. He leans forward, hands gripping tightly at the soft muscle of Calum’s hip and he jerks him up. It’s perfect, finally, and Ashton wants to cheer for finally manipulating Calum’s body to where it should be.

But then he looks up and sees his head is aimed at the floor. 

Now it’s not that Ashton is impatient. He can be quite understanding with other people's’ limits. However, Calum keeps shifting himself to one step below perfection, and Ashton’s getting a bit annoyed. 

Without realizing what he’s doing, he leans forward, long fingers gripping the hair at the back of Calum’s neck, and pulls his head where it needs to be. 

And Calum undeniably moans with it. 

Ashton’s not stupid, he knows Calum’s easy for pain, so he’s well aware of why he reacted the way he did. For a moment, Ashton wants to experiment, to tug harder and find out what make else the man would let him do. He doesn’t though, now isn’t the time, and he just holds his head there. 

“ _ Focus _ , Calum.” 

The temperature in the room went up about ten degrees during the last pose, or maybe Calum’s just making him hot.  

There’s a lack of breath in his lungs when he starts to direct the next move. “We’ll transition into a low plank from here.” He rubs his hand gently through Calum’s hair, sweeping it down his neck before removing it completely. He doesn’t feel as smug when Calum shivers with his entire body because it makes him feel just, if not more, on edge. 

All this is doing is reminding Ashton that he’d be  _ so _ good for Calum, that he could take him apart and put him together so easily, if only Calum would let him. 

Taking in a few breaths to center himself, Ashton forces himself to let go of the impure thoughts and the temptations making his shoulders (and his pants) tighter. When he feels a bit better, more in control, he slides his hands from Calum’s upper arms to his elbows - hands on either side of his body. With four of his fingers holding the back of them, he adds pressure to the front with his thumbs and Calum’s arms fold in. 

He wobbles at first, but catches himself. Ashton keeps one hand on his right elbow, but lets the other drift to his back, pressing down until Calum’s just hovering above the ground. He presses Calum’s elbows in so they’re parallel with his body and then pulls his hands away. 

“Perfect,” Ashton breathes. Calum’s trembling in the position, but they’re almost done and Ashton would really love to finish it out, just for his own piece of mind, just to know he’s strong enough to. “One last pose, pup.” 

“Oh,  _ God _ ,” Calum chokes out, words nearly a whisper in the room. It’s soft and desperate, and Ashton doesn’t realize he’s inadvertently made things tense again until Calum nearly crashes down. 

Ashton catches him with a tight grip on his hips, but Calum only moans. Ashton curses himself for letting them both get to this point, but still persists. It’s just one more pose. 

“Last one,” he says, surprised when he doesn’t sound completely winded with his own arousal. “This is Upward Dog.” 

Calum doesn’t react, something Ashton’s half-hard dick is glad about, so Ashton explains his process and he rearranges his neighbor’s easily manipulated body, guiding his hips down and arching so his upper body is parallel with the walls. 

“And then you just look up and you’re done,” Ashton finishes. It should be the end of it, they should be wrapping up, but Calum doesn’t move. “Look up, Calum.” But Calum doesn’t - just shakes his head, eyes closed tight as his head stays focused towards the mat. “ _ God _ .” 

Sick of waiting, Ashton does the only thing he knows that’ll get Calum there - he grips tightly at Calum’s fringe and jerks his head back with a pull that  _ has _ to hurt. 

But it works. 

Calum’s head jerks back and his jaw is dropping open with a cry. Ashton maintains his grip as he looks over Calum’s pose. His arms are a little off, but there’s no way to fix that without letting go of Calum’s hair, but he knows the second he does, Calum’s going to fall to the ground like a puppet with cut strings. So this is good enough.

“And we’re done.” 

He lets go and Calum folds, dropping with a moan. His entire body is covered in a sheen of sweat and his face is pinked. Ashton wants to see how far he can push him, but knows that he can’t, that they’ve already gone ten steps too far. 

And when Calum finally gets enough control to get up and look at Ashton, his eyes are blown out, completely black, staring up expectantly at Ashton. From this angle, he can see Calum’s pants stretching tightly around his erection, and knows that Calum’s asking for something. 

“You, uh.” He clears his throat around his words and looks away. “You should head home. It’s gonna be dark soon.” He thinks he regrets the words just saying them, but it’s nothing compared to the resentment he has for himself when Calum pouts up at him before leaving, a broken and hurt look in stormy eyes. 

⇆

Ashton watches Calum walk through his front door with shaky hands holding a phone. He knows what it means, knows that Calum’s calling his boyfriend, and he hates himself even more. He watches, unable to look away, as Calum paces his living room until his boyfriend arrives.

Only, when he walks through the door and Calum throws himself at him, his boyfriend turns him down, hands gently pushing at his shoulders, stroking Calum’s upper arms a few times as he adds distance between them. He’s saying something softly, his eyes hesitant and movements careful. 

There’s a beat. 

And then Calum’s yelling. He’s angry - absolutely  _ livid _ \- his hands jerking around furiously as his angry mouth forms around words Ashton’s glad he can’t hear. 

Ashton watches, apt, as Calum’s boyfriend calms him down. It takes nearly ten minutes, but soon, with soft strokes of his upper back and a calm demeanor, Calum’s looking a lot more sane. They hug, Calum holding on tighter, and the boyfriend leaves. 

And then Calum’s marching off to his room and the show is over. 

Despite the severity of the fight, Ashton finds himself still hard and gets off thinking of how easy Calum was under his hand. Afterwards, he finds himself feeling upset that Calum was so angry, but smug that his boyfriend didn’t get to reap the benefits of the work Ashton put in. 

⇆

Things go on the same way for awhile - Ashton watching Calum walk around naked, a permanent frown on his face now that he’s broken up with his boyfriend and there’s nobody around to offer him release - and when they run into each other in the halls, things are different. Calum is soft and sweet and always leaves with a smile on his face that matches the one on Ashton’s. 

Nothing progresses, though. 

Every time Ashton thinks about asking Calum out, he chickens out. He just isn’t sure if Calum’s honestly, truly into him or is just an oversexualized maniac out for a one-nighter. Ashton wouldn’t mind the latter, but he doesn’t think he can just hook-up with Calum, knowing he won’t be able to feed him french toast and fruit in the morning. 

So he doesn’t make a move. Instead, he sits back and daydreams about all the romantic and sexual things he could be missing out on with Calum. It’s miserable and fulfilling in the most infuriating way. 

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Michael’s relationship with his bank teller boyfriend is going amazing - something Michael won’t stop bragging about. It’s sweet, Ashton can admit to that, the way he never stops smiling, floating around talking about how perfectly it’s all going, but there’s only so much Ashton can take before he cracks. He’s jealous, plain and simple. 

Though that jealousy quickly turns to fear when he actually  _ meets _ Luke. 

It’s unprompted, which is the worst part. Ashton and Michael are sitting in the teacher’s lounge over their lunch break, and Michael’s been complaining about the state of the school’s kiln for the past five minutes. “We’re going to need a new one by June,” he’s saying, “Just because the kids don’t know how to follow procedure.” Ashton’s nodding, lifting up his mug, and looking up - 

And suddenly he’s choking. 

Approaching their table is none other than Calum’s boyfriend. He looks just like he always does, only he’s fully clothed this time around. He’s looking at Michael with a soft smile on his face, but even then, the truth doesn’t hit Ashton until the blond walks up behind Michael, cups his hands under Michael’s chin, and pulls his head back for a chaste kiss. 

Michael’s boyfriend is  _ Calum _ ’s boyfriend. Or would it be his  _ ex _ boyfriend, since it’s been over a week since they had that argument, and since haven’t done anything other than watch television together? 

The couple breaks their kiss and Michael gasps, a smile taking over his face. “Luke! What are you doing here?” It’s not that Ashton  _ needed _ confirmation that this was Luke, but having it goes to further cement Ashton’s worry. 

“Thought I’d visit you on your lunch,” Luke tells him, stepping from behind Michael and pulling out the empty chair at their table. 

“Don’t you have work?” 

“I took an early lunch to come visit. I don’t have much time, but it’s worth it.” Luke’s smiling at Michael like he’s everything in the world, and Ashton wants to think it’s sweet and be happy for his best friend, but he can’t, not when he’s too busy trying to find an exit route. 

He realizes too late that he can’t get away, and that he’s going to have to face the couple. He moves a bit too much, pulling the attention on himself, and Michael jumps to introduce the two.  “Oh. Luke, this is my best friend, Ashton.” He points to each of the men as he says their name. “Ashton, Luke.” 

Ashton can tell the moment that Luke’s eyes meet his that he’s caught. They’ve run into each other once outside the building, but they’ve locked eyes more than that in passing. If the shock in Luke’s eyes gives anything away, he definitely recognizes Ashton. 

“You…” Luke trails off, clearing his throat. “You look so familiar.”

“I guess I just have one of those faces.”

“Guess so,” he agrees. There’s a moment where Luke watches his face closely, but then he’s smiling like nothing ever happened and sticking his hand out. “Nice to meet you.” 

Ashton nods quickly and wipes his hand before standing up and reaching for Luke’s. “You too. I hear you make Mikey quite happy.” 

Easy as anything, Luke chuckles, pulling his hand back to rub at the back of his neck. “I hope I do.” He smiles down at Michael, whose skin is slowly turning pink. It’s sweet, and for a moment, Ashton thinks they’ve passed any initial weirdness. But then Luke’s falling into a chair and turning back to him. “So, Ashton. Are you seeing anybody?”

“I, uh. No,” he denies, shaking his head. “Living the single life.”

At his answer, Michael starts laughing. Ashton and Luke turn to him to glare and question respectively. “He’s obsessed with - ”

“With my work,” Ashton jumps in. Michael’s got a big mouth, and his sentence could have ended with anything from a vague concept of a person to Calum’s home address. There’s just no telling. “It’s hard to meet someone when I’ve got so much music. Say, speaking of work, I hear you’re a bank teller. How’d you get into it.” 

Michael looks confused about the change of subject and the speed of which it happened, but Ashton refuses look him in the eye. His heart is racing, pounding aggressively against his chest, and everything feels like it’s been shifted slightly to the left.

After that, things run relatively smoothly, no other close calls. The conversation flows easily - though Ashton keeps mostly to himself, not wanting to risk saying anything that’ll expose him or his voyeuristic hobby. He sits back and listens, smiling every time Michael turns pink at the compliments thrown his way. 

Their time comes to an end just five minutes before the lunch bell rings when Luke looks at his phone and curses. Seeing as he’s been nothing but polite the entire meal, it’s a bit jarring to hear him swear. 

“I should’ve been out of here a few minutes ago,” he says lowly. Michael responds with a petulant jut of his lower lip as his boyfriend stands up and Luke smiles at him.”I’ll see you tomorrow morning for coffee before work?”

“I’ll be there.” 

Luke leans down and kisses the pout off Michael’s face, and they both part with a bashful smile. There’s a moment where neither of them say anything, but then Luke’s turning to Ashton and smiles, but there’s an edge to it. “Nice to meet you again, Ashton.” It’s said knowingly and Ashton narrows his eyes. 

“You too.” Ashton watches as Luke makes his way from the lounge. The very moment his body is out of view, Ashton’s jerking his head directly in front of Michael’s “Whatever you do, you can’t mention Calum to Luke.”

“Why not?” 

“I - it’s just.” He stutters his way through an answer, not wanting to to have to shatter the illusion of the perfect, soft, well-meaning Luke to Michael. Not that there was anything wrong with the fact that he dated Calum, but this isn’t something that Michael should be bothered with. “Just please don’t.” 

“Why are you being weird?” Michael asks, head tilted in a manor much more subdued than he typically is. Ashton thinks it’s Luke’s influence, making Michael softer than usual. “We always tease each other about this stuff. Why cant Luke join in?” 

“Because I don’t want him to.” 

He frowns at the half-answer. “Do you not like him?” he asks. “Why can’t - ”

“Because Luke’s the one that Calum’s been hooking up with!” 

Ashton’s outburst is met with three reactions: his own - a pinched face and inward curse at himself for being so impulsive and reckless, the other teachers’ - muted conversations and looks of confusion and curiosity, and Michael’s - furrowed eyebrows and green eyes painted in disbelief. 

“You're lying,” Michael accuses him half-heartedly, voice failing him. 

“I’m not.” 

“He’s…” He trails off, and Ashton can see most of their coworkers back to minding their own  business. Even so, Michael keeps his voice down when he continues, “He's been sleeping around with your neighbor behind my back?” 

It’s not that Michael’s insecure. He isn’t. He just always puts too much faith in other people, and finding out that Luke didn’t sit at the bank for two decades, waiting to meet Michael is coming as a bit of a shock to him. He’ll be fine once Ashton manages to explain the situation, but actually  _ getting _ to explain the situation is difficult when Michael’s sinking deeper in his own mind. 

“I’m - ”

“He’s been seeing  _ me _ behind Calum’s back?” Michael cuts him off before he can even try to speak. 

“I don’t - ”

“I really thought - ”

“Mikey stop!” Ashton doesn’t care if they’ve gained the attention of the other teachers. He needs to stop this before his friend is inconsolable. “You’re spiralling, you need to stop. They haven’t slept together since your first date at least, that I’ve seen. Calum called him over, they yelled for a bit, and since then they just watch movies together.”

Things get quiet between them, Michael not immediately freaking out, which is a good sign. “Do you think I broke them up?” He asks calmly. 

“I don’t think they were really dating,” Ashton says, not sure if he believes up, but needing Michael to, just for the sake of his own sanity. “Just hooking up.”

“And he - ”

“I don’t think Luke did anything wrong,” Ashton explains. He thinks he knows what Michael’s thinking, knows that he’s worried about  _ Ashton’s _ interpretation of Luke is skewed. This whole situation is fucked up, and it could have all been easily prevented if Ashton would’ve kept his curtains closed. “It’s  _ me _ that fucked up. He can’t know I watched him fuck Calum.” 

Michael nods along, lips thinned as he takes in what Ashton says. “So you don’t think he’s scum or whatever?”

“He’s not my favorite person, I’ll say that,” he answers honestly, not wanting to lie and make things even more complicated. “But that’s because of my own hangup with Calum. For you, I think he’s great. He’s a good person and I can tell he makes you happy.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” Ashton lets all of his sincerity bleed into his tone, and it’s worth it when Michael smiles. The bell rings, dismissing their lunch break, and as Michael goes to stand, Ashton stops him with a hand on his forearm. “Just promise you won’t say anything about Calum.” 

Michael nods. “I swear. Calum who, right?” 

“Right.” His stomach coils tightly. He has a rotten feeling about this. 

⇆

Sunday morning, Ashton goes for his usual morning jog, passing the bus stop - like he typically does - but this time there’s a familiar figure standing around. It’s Calum, Ashton could recognize him from a mile away at this point, and his face lights up the moment his eyes land on Ashton. 

“There’s my favorite drummer,” he says, pulling the attention of a few other patrons at the stop. Ashton smiles instinctively as he slows down and comes to a stop. “I feel like I don’t see you around as often anymore.” 

“Work’s just…” He trails off, panting. He’s exaggerating his breathlessness a bit because he doesn’t want be here for long. His feelings, mixed with Luke being so close to him, to  _ both  _ of them - it’s running him ragged. 

Calum nods, completely ignorant to Ashton’s hesitation for a conversation. “I get that. If you ever want to chat, though, I’m around.” 

“I’d like that a lot,” Ashton says, and he isn’t lying. He’d  _ love _ to get Calum alone, to spend hours just talking into the night, but it’s not a good idea. Even so, he can’t stop himself from offering, “Maybe this week we can get dinner or something.” 

“I’d love that,” Calum laughs, a grin lighting up his face, crinkles near his eyes showing his sincerity. “There’s a few places I’ve been wanting to try in the city. What were you thinking?” 

Truthfully, Ashton was thinking of hiding in his house all week so he doesn’t have to sit through a dinner with his cockteasing, heart-stealing neighbor. “I’ve got no preference,” he says instead. “Just as long as it’s not fast food.”

“What’s wrong with - ” Calum’s question is cut off as his gaze floats past Ashton’s head, and then he’s a gasping, a giant smile taking over his confused face. “ _ Puppy _ !”

Ashton turns, and right behind him, there’s a woman walking down the sidewalk, a puppy trotting happily ahead of her. The animal is cute, but even more, Calum looks like he’s seen gold. Ashton steps out of the way so the woman can pass, but Calum just drops to the ground and lets the puppy approach, running straight into his arms. 

“You are the  _ cutest _ !” Calum yelling, hands sinking into the fur behind the dog’s ear. “Look at you!” His voice is high, full of awe, and Ashton suddenly realizes something that scares him as much as it excites him.

He’s in love with Calum. 

It’s an odd time to realize such a thing, Ashton knows, but somehow it feels just right, like he was  _ meant _ to figure things out right here, right now, as Calum shows this puppy all of the affection he possibly can in less than a minute. 

The woman and the dog head off a short bit later, and Calum lets them, standing up as he watches them go. “What an  _ angel _ ,” Calum sings, and Ashton’s head spins. He’s smiling softly and Calum catches his eyes, amused. “What?”

“Nothing,” he denies with a chuckle. “You’re a puppy yourself, that’s all.”

The joy from earlier fades into something more subdued on Calum’s face. Slowly, red starts staining his skin, climbing up from his neck. He tilts his head down, eyes suddenly taking an interest in their shoes. “You don’t know what that does to me, do you?” 

Before Ashton can answer, can confirm that he thinks he just might know  _ exactly _ what that does to Calum, the bus is pulling up. Calum leaves, biting his bottom lip and waving. Ashton watches him go, feeling something odd building in his chest. 

Once the bus pulls away, Ashton keeps running, even passing his building. He figures another mile won’t kill him. 

⇆

When Ashton gets home, exhausted and positively drenched in his own sweat, he calls Michael, needing his best friend to vent to about his feelings - all the stuff Michael considers himself an expert in. Of course, because his friend is now in a relationship with someone, that means he’s not always available, so Ashton finds himself rolling his eyes, putting his earbuds back in, and jogs towards the city where Michael and his boyfriend are enjoying breakfast together. 

The cafe isn’t too far out, only five blocks or so, but by the time Ashton gets there, he can’t breathe. He stops in front of the table Michael and Luke are sitting at on the patio, dropping his hands to knees. 

It’s easy to see that he startles the couple, especially when Michael’s hand goes to his chest, pressing down as he breathes roughly. “Fuck, Ash. What the fuck happened to you?”

“Jogging,” Ashton tells him, the word coming out a bit distorted through his panting. “Two miles.”

“You’re a wreck.” Michael’s nose curls up in disgust, but Ashton can’t even feel offended, not when he’s thirty seconds from dropping. “Why’d you go so far?”

Ashton shakes his head. He can’t go into much detail, not with Luke sitting right there. “Saw him,” he settles for instead. “Felt stressed.”

“Saw who?” From the corner of his eye, Ashton can see Luke sit up straighter, his casually interest losing all subtlety. Ashton rushes to wave him off, but he’s out of breath and doesn’t get there in time. Instead, he watches in what feels like slow motion as his old best friend and new worst enemy ruins  _ everything _ . 

“Calum, his neighbor.” With Michael’s casual reveal, Ashton’s heart is in his throat. “He’s practically in love with him.”

Ashton glares, feeling like he could honestly kill Michael. “Are you -  _ fucking _ ,” he takes a breath. “ - kidding me?” The second part of the reveal was completely unnecessary, and - up until about an hour ago - completely untrue. 

Ever since Ashton moved into his new apartment, it feels like everything has slowly began to fall apart. He can’t control his own emotions anymore, and he’s been watching his neighbor - his incredibly sexy neighbor - naked in the privacy of his own home. His best friend is dating said neighbors ex boyfriend, and now everything’s unravelling in front of him. 

Man, he could  _ really _ kill Michael right now. 

For the most part, it doesn’t look like Michael thinks he’s done anything wrong, but then his eyes are widening and filling with regret. “Ashton, I’m so - ”

“Calum Hood?” Luke’s voice speaks up, void of any emotion. Michael and Ashton both snap their gaze to Luke, and his face is just as blank as his tone. “The one whose window is right across from yours? That is who you’re talking about, yeah?”

Ashton stares, mouth tense, breathing through his nose. He refuses to answer. He feels humiliated, and if he weren’t already flushed from his run, he would be from the sheer embarrassment of it all. He’s far too old to be staying silent in the face of a question at this point in his life, but he can’t think of anything to say that isn’t begging for Luke’s silence. 

“You’ll have to answer me sooner or later.”

Ashton holds out as long as he can, mind racing to think of  _ something _ to say, but all he can do is beg. “ _ Please _ don’t say anything to him.” 

“I won’t,” Luke says, which isn’t what Ashton expected, but as soon as the words hit, his head drops in surprise and relief. Until - “But he already knows.”

Blame it on his exhaustion, on the physical and mental toll that’s already been thrust at him so early in the morning, but Ashton holds out hope that maybe, just maybe, it’s not what he’s thinking. He raises his head, eyes narrowing. “Knows what?”

“That you’re into him,” Luke confirms Ashton’s worst fears. “He’s known since the day you met, and you tried to lean against your snare but almost fell to the ground.” 

“I - it was a cymbal,” Ashton finds himself trying to defend his past-self’s clumsiness. Luke just shrugs. “How do you know about everything?”

“Calum told me,” he answers. “Though, he didn’t need to. I could see you staring into his window every time I came over.” 

As soon as the words sink in, Ashton’s entire body drops with the weight of it all. He catches himself on the chair, mouth open. “Oh god - ”

“I  _ knew _ he could see you,” Michael yells, voice painted in amusement, which doesn’t fucking  _ help _ . 

“Fucking kill me.”

“I told you so, Ashton.” Michael’s laugh is going to be the soundtrack to Ashton’s demise. “I said it  _ twice _ .”

“I need to move.” 

Luke rolls his eyes, and Ashton has no clue how he can act so  _ bored _ when he’s just torn down the walls of Ashton’s mind and exposed his deepest and creepiest secret to the entire world. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ashton asks, letting the shock and outrage bleed into his tone. “He knows I’ve been watching him. He knows I’ve seen you  _ fuck _ him - ” He cuts himself off when a nearby table turns to them, all looking more interested than disgusted. He lowers his voice and continues, “He knows, and he’s probably disgusted. I need to move.” 

“You’re being very dramatic.”

“Well you’re dating Michael, so get used to it,” Ashton snaps. Michael hums, not even denying it. Ashton rolls his eyes when Luke smiles fondly at him. He doesn’t think he can take looking at the happy couple any long when he knows he’ll never have that, not after today’s terrible discovery. “I should head home. I’ve got some curtains to close and boxes to pack.” 

“You’re so obtuse, Ashton, really.” Luke looks almost bored with his reaction, and it’s really grating on Ashton’s nerves. “Yes, Calum can see you, knows you’ve been watching him - boo hoo.”

He narrows his eyes. “ _ ‘Boo-hoo _ ’?”

“He could’ve closed his curtains easily, but he didn’t,” Luke says. “He walked around naked, did bad yoga with his ass to the glass. He made me - ” Luke cuts out suddenly, looking around before whispering, “ -  _ spank _ him.” There’s a flush on his face as continues speaking at a normal volume. “He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t putting on a show.”

“I - ”

“So you and Calum never dated?” Michael asks, cutting off Ashton. 

Luke looks to Michael and smiles, but Ashton’s too busy melting down to pay much attention to it. “Never. We hooked up occasionally. It started when we were in college. Every few months or so one of us would call the other for some stress relief.” Ashton chokes out a noise - ‘stress relief’ is what yoga was supposed to be for, not  _ Luke _ \- but Luke ignores him. “When Ashton moved in, though, he called me two or three times a week.”

Michael hums, looking settled with the answer, and suddenly Ashton suspects that they’ve talked about this before. He can’t dwell on the thought, because Luke’s words sink in and he’s immediately backtracking. 

“He called you because of  _ me _ ?”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Obviously. He wanted to put on a show.”

“To make me jealous?”

“That’s part of it.” Luke tilts his head to each side once, considering, before continuing. “He definitely wanted you to see him sexually, that’s for sure. But when it was just us hanging out as friends, he’d go on and on about you, and how you made him blush and laugh.” Luke scoffs at is own words, and Ashton wants to be offended. “I think him doing his window act was the only way he knew how to get you to make a move.”

Ashtons mind is racing. He can hear Michael and Luke moving on to talk about something else in the background, but he can’t focus. He’s too busy going over everything that Luke’s just told him, that Calum’s also interested in him, and has been  _ peacocking _ around to push Ashton into making a move. 

But something just doesn’t make sense. 

“Why didn’t he just ask  _ me _ out?”

Luke looks away from Michael, lips tilting down. “Calum is… He doesn’t ask for anything unless he  _ has _ to. I’m - ” He runs his hands through his hair with a sigh. “This might be too much - more than I need to say - but he likes being made to beg. If you ask him out, he’ll say yes. He’ll be eager and excited about it too, but he’s not going to make the first move.” He bites the bottom left corner of his lip. “Not unless you make him, at least.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Ashton nods. As much as he wants to keep inquiring about Calum and the games he plays, it’s not Luke’s job to tell him. Besides, he thinks he’s got an idea. 

“This had been insightful,” Ashton says, standing up suddenly. “I think I have some things to think about.”

“I think you do.”

Ashton puts his earbuds in, ready to head for home again, but he ends up taking them out again. “Can you not mention this to Calum?” Luke pretend to lock his mouth, throwing away the imaginary key, and Ashton grins, but then turns to glare at Michael. 

“What?”

“Maybe your boyfriend can keep a promise better than you can,” Ashton bites. 

He doesn’t stay for a reply or an apology, just puts his earbuds back in and jogs off. He spends the entire route home thinking about what he’s just been told. At first, he feels a bit manipulated, a bit played, but he knows Calum’s not that kind of person. It’s more than just Calum wanting his dick, it  _ has  _ to be. And Ashton’s going to make Calum tell him so. 

He’s going to make him beg. 

⇆

He calls it the Reverse-Calum, and it’s his best idea yet. 

At first, Ashton wanted to get started right away, to march over to Calum’s and break him down piece by? piece. He wanted more than anything to hear Calum begging right then and there. That wouldn’t have been much of a punishment for the way Calum’s been trying to manipulate him, and Ashton’s nothing if not completely fair. 

He waits a week. 

It’s miserable, and seeing Calum continue his naked parading inside but be every bit a human cuddle outside - well, it really wears him down. By time Friday rolls around, Ashton’s reworked the plan over a million times, and he’s all but shaking underneath his skin. The amount of self-control it took not to start earlier, to say “fuck it” and abandon his plans would impress even Luke, who Ashton is learning is a master of keep his composure. 

It all works itself out, though. The waiting is worth it, and Ashton realizes that from the moment he wakes up and strips out of his pajamas, standing with his back to the window for a little bit. After stretching, he walks over to his dresser, pulling out his clothes for the day. From the corner of his eye, he can see Calum standing in front of his side table, morning coffee abandoned in his hands. He’s far from subtle. 

He goes to work, making sure to leave on time, and not get distracted by Calum’s usual morning antics. In fact, he barely pays attention to him, letting his eyes just skimming over Calum’s half dressed figure. Whether Calum notices or not isn’t important - just as long as he knows Ashton’s focused on something other than him. 

He spends the entire day full of unrestrained energy. He lets all of his classes choose the music they play because his mind is too occupied to really pay much attention. If it makes is students favor him a bit more, that’s just another benefit.  

As is the norm on Fridays, Calum and Ashton get off work at the same time. Ashton likes to run over and talk to him for a little bit, but today he only waves at him. He has too much planned to abandon it all for a little conversation. Besides, if Calum thinks that Ashton’s not giving him all of his attention, it’ll put him on edge. 

Which is  _ exactly _ what he’s going for. 

Ashton goes to his room and strips again. Calum’s already sorting through his mail at his side table, but as soon as Ashton’s body is on display, his eyes drift up. Ashton spares a moment to mentally slap himself upside the head for not sooner realizing Calum could see him. It’s not like it’s some secret with the way he’s openly ogling Ashton through the glass.

After getting dress in his usual workout clothes, Ashton disappears to his living room and spends the next hour and a half at his drum kit. It’s tedious, and it exhausts him more than it usually does because he’s not frustrated at all. In fact, he’s feeling more loose-limbed than he typically is just at the thought of what’s going to happen if this all works out. 

When his playlist ends, Ashton goes back into his bedroom - only, he can’t see Calum through the window. 

So he waits. 

Just to keep up appearances, to maintain the dampness of his skin and his shirt, he does jumping jacks until he sees Calum walking back into the living room. Ashton hides behind the door frame, takes a deep breath, and then makes a show of walking into his room, flicking on the lights and going towards his closet. When he feels Calum’s eyes on him again, he pulls his shirt off, wiping his brow off with the fabric, before throwing it into his laundry basket. 

For good measure, he reaches his hand into his pants and squeezes himself. He moans - he knows Calum can’t hear, but it feels phenomenal - taking care to close his eyes with it. Then he heads to the bathroom. 

When he gets out of his shower - not really drying off, just wrapping the towel around his waist - it’s dark outside. With his light on, it makes him all the more visible, and he hopes Calum cracks soon. He’s only got one more trick up his sleeve, and if it doesn’t work, he may just have to admit defeat. 

The towel comes off, barely damp since it wasn’t actually used, and Ashton climbs up on his bed, shuffling with his knees. He faces his dresser, not wanting to be  _ too _ obvious with what he’s doing, and slowly wraps his fist around himself. He takes his time, barely moving as he strokes forward, really just working to get himself hard, but he lets himself get lost in the feeling. 

If this works, Calum will take it as an invitation to come over. If it doesn’t Ashton’s going to have a killer orgasm  _ thinking _ about Calum coming over. 

Truly, it’s a win/win. 

He’s only been at it for a few minutes, making a show of leaning his head back and biting his lip, hoping the lighting does his body justice, when there’s a pounding at the front door. The suddenness of it makes him jump a bit. With a laugh, he takes his hand off of himself - it’s a true test of his restraint - and climbs off the bed. 

As he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants, forgoing the underwear, he spares a glance at Calum’s apartment, only to find it empty. Perfect. 

Calum’s still pounding on the door when Ashton emerges from his room, and once he gets close enough, he can hear Calum’s infuriated voice yelling, “Open up, you  _ fucker _ !”

With a smirk, he opens it and Calum falls forward, his fist still raised. He looks down and his eyes focus on where Ashton’s dick is tenting his sweats, a small wet spot forming around the head. His gaze stays locked for a beat too long and he gulps before he looks up, eyes narrowed in anger. 

“You fucking  _ know _ what you’re doing. You know I can see you and you’re being a  _ tease _ ,” Calum yells, pointing his finger at Ashton. Instead of reacting the way he’s expected to, Ashton just raises his eyebrow, looking entirely unimpressed. Calum flushes and stutters over his next words. “You… You’re - ”

“Is there something I can help you with?” Ashton asks, but Calum doesn’t answer. “Or are you just going to stand on my doorstep like a lost little puppy, yelling at me?” 

Calum starts slowly turning red, the color climbing up his neck in a arousing show of just how affected he is. He doesn’t move to speak, and Ashton feels a familiar rush of power. If he wasn’t in this for the long game, he’d already be pulling Calum towards his bedroom. 

As it is, this is going to last. So he plays it slow. Authoritative. In charge.  

“Well?”

“I…” Calum swallows dryly, his adam’s apple bobbing nicely on his throat. “You’re going to fuck me.” It takes effort not to laugh at his attempt at making a demand, but Ashton manages to just grin. 

“I am?”

Calum’s avoiding eye contact, his eyes focused solely on Ashton’s chest. “Yes.” He clears his throat when the word comes out broken. “Yes. You are. And you’re going to - ”

“It’s funny,” Ashton cuts him off abruptly. It works to bring Calum’s eyes level with his. He takes advantage of that and starts to approach, feeling a sick satisfaction when Calum backs up as he does. “You come over to  _ my _ apartment, bang on  _ my _ door, and then start demanding things from  _ me _ .” Calums back hits the wall and he swallows dry. Ashton rubs his thumb against his adam’s apple, feeling Calum quiver under his touch, before he cages him in with one arm. “Why do you think you get to do that?” 

“I’m… I - ”

Ashton leans down so his lips are almost touching Calum’s but not quite, teasing him with a promise he won’t pull through on. 

“I’m the one that gets to call the shots, puppy,” he breathes, and Calum honest to god  _ whimpers _ . Ashton has to take a deep breath so he stays rational and on track with the plan instead of just taking Calum against the wall. “And I’m not gonna fuck someone who thinks they can demand something of me.” Before he finishes, Calum leans up to try and kiss Ashton. His lips barely make contact before Ashton’s pulling away with a dry laugh. “Or tries to take what they aren’t offered.” 

Calums eyes are dark, a bit lost, searching Ashton’s face for answers to a question he can’t make himself ask. Ashton’s having too much fun. He’d get down on one knee right now if it meant he could play with Calum for the rest of his life. 

“I’ll tell you what, pup. I’ll forget about this little…” he trails off, but keeps his eyes focused on Calum, “ _ tantrum _ , we’ll call it, if you go home right now. I’ll take you out tomorrow night, and afterwards, if you behave, I’ll consider your earlier demands.” He lets his free hand ghost over Calum’s waist, but he doesn’t touch. “Sound good?” 

Calum takes a minute, eyes searching Ashton’s face before he nods and he takes a shaky breath. “Yes.”

Ashton smiles, letting it take over his entire face, and Calum’s breath stutters. 

“Good.” He backs up, and Calum leans away from the wall, but he doesn’t move. “Go on.” 

He taps Calum’s hip, putting the slightest amount of force behind it to get him moving, and Calum stumbles, mind too stuck on other things to catch himself. He walks off, shaking his head, and refusing to look at Ashton.

As soon as he’s out of sight, Ashton’s running to his room. He watches as Calum stumbles into his front door, and for the second time since they’ve met, he’s getting himself off against his front door, sobbing out when he cums. 

He looks frustrated and tense, and for the first time it only makes Ashton feel smug. 

⇆

Ashton watches Calum shut his curtains two hours before their date. 

He strolls into the living room, completely naked, coffee cup held tightly in his left hand as his right hangs uselessly at his side. He approaches the window and smiles at Ashton before his right hand is wrapping around his half-hard dick, tugging once, and then the curtains are blocking his view. 

Instead of getting angry like Calum wants and expects, Ashton just smirks. He has plans for tonight. 

⇆

The date goes fucking fantastic. The food was fine, the atmosphere was alright, nothing to write home about, but being near Calum was everything. From the moment Calum opened his door and Ashton got his first look at his smiling face, everything fell into place. 

The two of them have so much in common - much more than Ashton had expected when they met, just six weeks back, and the night flies by, filled with laughing and smiling and a thrill in Ashton's bones that he hasn't felt in years. 

The night could end after dinner, the two of them parting their separate ways on the sidewalk just outside their apartments, and it would still be the best night of his life.

Sex isn't going to make or break this - it’s much more than that.

But as much as Ashton wants to believe there are no expectations for tonight, he can’t deny the electrifying current pushing them along, pulling the air between them until it’s taught and ready to snap at a moment’s notice. There shouldn’t be an expectation, but there definitely is, and Ashton doesn’t find himself minding at all. 

When they finally get home, Ashton walking Calum up to his door, he sighs, they’re both leaning against the wall and standing far too close together. “I should be getting home.” 

The disappointment on Calum’s face is obvious, his subtlety nonexistent, and Ashton can’t resist leaning forward and kissing him. It wipes the pout off of Calum’s face, the other man smiling against him lips, and it’s all sweet. 

For a moment. 

When Calum’s hand reaches up, running his finger down Ashton’s collar bone, Ashton seizes his wrist and presses it against the wall behind him. He swallows Calum’s moan at the pressure and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside Calum’s mouth. 

Through panting breaths, Ashton continues his earlier teasing. “It’s late.” Calum hums in agreement, but chases Ashton’s lips every time he pulls away. “I really shouldn’t stay much longer.” Even as he’s speaking, he’s leaving small biting kisses down Calum’s jaw, nipping just enough to have his breath coming in stutters. It’s gratifying in the sexiest kind of way. 

“O-or,” Calum says, voice as weak as his wrist under Ashton’s hand. “You could… you could come inside.”

Ashton hums, his teeth scraping just behind Calum’s ear. “What would we possibly do in there, puppy?” he wonders, feeling a  _ zip _ of energy when it results in a whine. 

“Ash, please.”

“ _ Please _ ,” Ashton mocks, his words a husky chuckle in Calum’s ears. “How polite of you.” He continues his assault and Calum just melts into the wall, a mess of moans and pleas as Ashton marks him up, body constantly squeezing in tighter until Calum could practically lift his legs and not drop an inch. “I guess I could consider - ”

The words aren’t even out of his mouth before Calum’s pushing them both away from the wall and dragging them into the dark apartment. They pass the lightswitch, and Ashton laughs at how eager and clumsy Calum is, feet nearly slipping from under him twice. 

They’re halfway across the living room when Ashton notices something. He stops walking, and Calum nearly topples with it. “Where are we going?” 

“My bedro - ” 

“Oh, puppy,” Ashton sings, bottom lip jutting out as he pulls his hand away. “If you think for one moment I’m not going to take you up against the window you’ve been teasing me with, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

Calum’s head turns to the window, flushing prettily in the moonlight that’s shining through. Ashton’s going to destroy him. 

For the first time since arriving, Ashton turns to look as well, and - well,  _ shit _ . “Look at that,” he says, voice marvelling at the very clear sight of his entire bedroom. He can even see the edge of his hi-hat from his drum kit just outside the open door. “You have quite the view, don’t you.” 

“I - ”

“Makes me feel a lot less forgiving when I think about what a knowing little cocktease you’ve been.” 

Calum outright moans at that, a broken “ _ fuck _ ” falling from his lips as he does. “Can you just - ”

“Can I just what?” he asks, turning back to Calum, taking him how much of a mess he already is, just at a few kisses and some purposefully structured words. “Are you rushing me, pup? After I’ve put so much consideration into giving you what you need?” Calum shakes his head, eyes glinting with it. Suddenly, Ashton wants to see him. “Why don’t we get these clothes off?” 

Not hesitating for even a moment, Calum begins stripping himself of his clothing, and any thoughts that Ashton mave have been having about anything else in the world are wiped away immediately at the sight Calum, naked flesh on display, right in front of him. He takes his shirt off, just to keep things fair, but Calum doesn't even leave his rings on his fingers.

He has Calum lean against the window, leaving him there as he heads into the bathroom to grab some lube. It's his first view of deeper into the apartment, and Ashton laughs when he realizes Calum's not as neat and tidy as his living room portrays him to be. His bathroom counter alone is jumble of boxes and bottles and things that really don't belong - who keeps a small collection sharpies in their bathroom? 

He makes his way back to Calum only to see his neighbor leaning against the window, palms flat on the glass’ and ass sticking out like a fucking present. Ashton wants to know just how hard his hand can bounce off of it. 

Later, of course. 

He crowds in behind Calum, leaving a soft kiss behind his ear as he uncaps the lube. “You ready?” He slides his first lube-covered finger inside and isn’t met with much resistance. He thinks he knows why, but still plays dumb, humming curiously as he slowly thrusts the digit in and out. “What’s this, pup?” 

“Um, I… I may have,” his voice breaks, and through his reflection in the window, Ashton can see Calum’s lower lip being abused by his teeth, his eyes drifting towards the grass below them as he stumbles his way through an explanation. “I think I - ”

“You  _ think _ ,” Ashton laughs. “You mean you don’t know?” 

“No, I… I know.” Around Ashton’s finger, Calum clenches tightly. “I got myself off earlier.”

“How many fingers?” 

Ashton traces the rim of Calum’s hole with a second finger, but doesn’t push in, only waits as Calum takes in a shaky breath. A few beats pass before he’s confessing, “Two.” Ashton slides his second finger in as a reward and Calum relaxes into it, hands sliding uselessly against the glass, gripping for something to hold onto as Ashton stretches his two fingers apart. 

"This isn't as comfortable as you thought, is it?” He asks when he feels feet shifting in front of him “It'd be much better off in your bed, where I could spread you out and take my sweet time - pay attention to every inch of your body. Hit all your sweet spots and make you come undone." His spare hand reaches up and pinches Calum’s left nipple, making the other boy squeeze around his fingers. "But you kept inviting your little friend over just so he'd fuck you where I could see. Needed to put on a show, didn't you?"

Calum’s shaking his head, a fervent denial of Ashton’s accusation, but he’s forced to stop with a keen when Ashton pulls his head back by his hair.

"Don't lie to me, puppy,” he says. He’s working hard to keep his voice even, not wanting to give away just how fucking hot Calum’s desperation is making him. “I saw it happen. I watched as he fucked you, getting you off but not getting you where you needed to be. You were too busy being a slut for my attention that you ended up disappointed when he could’nt give you what you needed." 

Calum whines, and Ashton watches as one of his hands slowly starts sliding from the window. It’s almost unnoticeable, the way he makes it look like it’s just the sweat on his palms making him slide, but he makes a trail to his dick, and Ashton smirks. Calum thinks he’s being subtle, but when he’s moments from making contact, Ashton drops his free hand from Calum’s hair and wraps his hand around his wrist, pulling it away and slamming their hands back on the window, his much larger and nearly crushing in its grip. Calum cries out, his dick visibly twitching. 

"Careful what you wish for, pup,” Ashton teases. “You wanted my attention, and now you've got it." 

He continues the movements of his fingers, a third tracing the outside, getting ready to push in. When Calum tries pushing back onto it, Ashton scoffs to avoid giving in. He has to keep up his image, has to keep the words coming, his tone bored, because it’s getting Calum off like nothing he’s ever seen before. 

"I'm almost insulted you don't trust me to get you off. Do you think I can't do it? That I don't know exactly what you need?" Ashton sounds patronizing, but it works as Calum shakes his head. "I know, pup, I know. I know when you need a bit more in your greedy little hole," he shoves the third finger in and Calum’s jaw drops, his hands grasping at nothing on the window. "I know when you need to be held in place," he tightens his grip on Calum’s wrist, pushing against his sudden pull, "because you don't know how to control yourself.” 

He can tell his words are getting to Calum, the sheen of sweat covering his body and shaky inhales he’s making the number one give away. It’s hot in more ways than one, and Ashton thinks if he doesn’t fuck Calum soon he’s going to suffocate in the tension twisted around them. 

Calum’s on his toes, ass sloped in the air, chasing the feeling of Ashton’s fingers. Ashton understands exactly what he needs. 

“And I know when a selfish little slut needs to be punished." He pulls his hand away from Calum’s wrist and slams his hand against the ass grinding on his fingers. Calum cries out, falling deeper into the window and his muscles tense, compressing Ashton’s fingers together.

The a whimper, and at first it just sounds like breathing, but Ashton soon realizes the the breathless mumbles falling from Calum’s lips are asking for, "more, more, more." And Ashton can only laugh. 

"Can't give you more right now, pup." He runs his hand softly through Calum’s fringe, making the man somehow sigh and whine all at once. "I know how hard up you are for a spanking, and if I gave in, I wouldn’t be very good at keeping control, would I?" 

Calum nods, head bobbing furiously where it’s pressed against the steadily fogging glass. "You would be. You’re so good to me." 

Ashton laughs, running his hand down to Calum’s neck delicately. "Cute." Calum whines again, but Ashton shuts him up by driving a fourth finger in, some force with it accompanying his biting, " _ But wrong _ ." 

Just when Calum starts to relax into the movements, to be good and take what Ashton’s giving him, his hand twitches and Ashton has to slam his own against it just as it pulls away from the window. 

"Stop trying to be naughty,” he demands, voice low and teeth scraping lightly against his earlobe. “I like to think I'm being nice right now by even touching you at all. I could have left you all alone again, to have a sad wank against your front door because you can't find anyone willing rough up a slutty little pup like you." 

Calum cries out, his cock twitching again at the words. Ashton thinks if he were to touch him even once it’d be game over. 

“I’ve barely even started, pup, and you’re already a mess. Do I even need to get my dick in you or are you going to cum too fast like the eager slut you are?” 

Calum coughs out a sob, shaking his head almost too quickly. “I need it,” he begs. “I need it, I need it.” 

Instead of furthering his teasing, of prolonging the inevitable, Ashton slides his fingers out, wiping them on the thigh of his denim jeans before using those same fingers to pull down his zipper and strip himself of them. Calum’s whimpering against the glass, arching his back just the slightest bit, almost like he’s presenting his ass for Ashton to take. 

And take he does. 

Once he’s stripped of his clothes, and wearing the condom that's been tucked into his back pocket the entire night, he steps up behind Calum, palms grasping at his hips. Calum gasps at the contact, leaning more heavily against the window. Ashton’s not even inside him yet, but he’s already a beautiful, docile mess. 

When Ashton fits his cock against Calum’s entrance, he opens right up, sighing as Ashton slides in, revelling in the tight, wet heat of it all. 

When he bottoms out, it’s with a groan, his head falling tensely on Calum’s shoulder as Calum’s nails bite indents into his own palms. Together, they stay still for a moment, allowing themselves time to adjust - it’s too good,  _ painfully _ good, and Ashton’s not sure he could last if he picked up his pace right away - Calum himself looks moments away from finishing. 

It starts with a slow glide, Ashton pulling back until only the head is inside, and then pushing in completely. Calum’s mouth drops opens in a sigh and his eyes go to the ceiling, unfocused and glazed. Ashton trails his left thumb over Calum’s flushed cheek, allowing it to dip down, scraping at his jaw line. It serves to have him clenching around Ashton’s dick, Ashton’s hips stuttering in response. 

He keeps his pace slow - well, as slow as he can with how worked up he already is. Though as he’s taking his time, that doesn’t mean he’s being gentle. Each time he brings their hips together, it’s with force, a harsh grip on Calum’s hip as their skin slaps together. 

There’s sweat pooling at the base of Calum’s spine, Ashton’s right hand almost sliding off of where it’s glued to the back of his hip. The room is stuffy and the glass is clouded over, and Ashton feels like every time he blinks, there’s a new drop of sweat on his eyelashes.

It’s all  _ slick _ and  _ hot _ and  _ tight _ , and Ashton’s in heaven.

It only gets better when Calum gasps suddenly, something broken and urgent. His hand peels from the window, making Ashton’s fall, and slams forward with a  _ pound _ . His nails attempt to dig into the glass, but only slip. His ass tightens deliciously and Ashton can’t help but slam forward with it, letting a few thrusts land brutally. 

Calum sobs with it. “ _ There _ ,” he cries, voice weepy and eyes unfocused, “ _ more _ .” And Ashton suddenly knows what’s he gone and hit. He keeps the angle, not pausing his movements as he gives it to Calum, revelling in the broken, cut-off gasps he gives, struggling to get enough air in with the unforgiving pace Ashton sets, not letting up, not wanting to when Calum sobbing is his favorite song.

Without Ashton’s hand stopping him from moving, Calum’s hand starts to slip again, to walk the familiar, forbidden trail to his cock. 

“I don’t know what you think your doing with your naughty little paws, but I know you aren’t about to touch yourself, are you?”

“Touch me,” Calum begs, not even denying what he was doing, but placing his hand back where it was before. “Please, please, just touch me.”  

And Ashton could easily wrap his hand around Calum’s dick, get him off with a few rough strokes, but he knows that’s not what’s going to really  _ wreck _ him. It’s the Luke way out, and Ashton’s here to prove he can be the best Calum’s ever had. 

“See, I don’t know if I should give you want,” Ashton says, his words coming out through pants, even as his hips slow to move glacially compared to where they were and what he knows will bring them both to the edge. Calum cries more, louder, and tries to reach up to pull his own hair, but Ashton puts their hands back on the window. “You’re still not getting it, are you? Your hair is mine, your dick is mine, this hole is mine,” he thrusts once, particularly hard, then goes back to his slow pace. “You’re  _ mine _ , and I don’t think you’ve behaved enough to come.” 

Calum falls forward and starts crying, full-body sobs getting out the frustration that’s building up. 

“Let it all out, puppy.” Ashton runs his hands through Calum’s fringe again, taking a moment to comfort the weepy boy, before getting back at it, ready to start heading for the end. 

He picks up his pacing, faster, harsher this time around, enjoying the slick heat of Calum’s ass squeezing around his prick like it’s trying to milk him for everything he has - and he doesn’t doubt that it will. 

It takes moments before Calum’s on his toes, fingernails clawing at nothing but the slippery surface in front of them. He’s right on the edge, and instead of letting him get there on his own, Ashton raises his left hand and brings it down repeatedly on Calum’s ass, not stopping until his palm is numb from tingling and Calum cums, painting the inside of the window with his release. His muscles seize around Ashton’s cock and it takes the breath from his lungs.  

When Calum finishes, he drops, legs giving out completely. 

Ashton goes down with him, still fucking him, running his hands through Calum’s hair, comforting the man as he chases his own climax. “Seems you made a mess, pup,” he comments when they’re eye level to the cum drying on the glass. “What would you do if I made you clean that up right now?” 

“Oh god, oh  _ god _ ” he’s hiccupping through his tears but he’s clenching tightly, and Ashton’s nearly there. 

“Fuck, pup,” he groans. “Keep doing that, I’m - ” 

He maintains his pace, but it’s tough in this position and he needs better, so he carefully guides Calum’s upper body forward, bending him in half, and has him brace himself on the floor. Calum immediately falls forward and Ashton has to hold his hips to keep him from stretching himself across the hardwood. 

Calum takes a deep breath and then he’s arching, the squeeze of his ass around Ashton’s throbbing dick. 

“ _ Fuck! _ ” He thrusts a few last times, spanking Calum thrice, just to feel him tighten - which he does expertly - and then Ashton’s coming. He sees white and wildflowers and the crinkles by Calum's eyes when he comes across a puppy on the sidewalk, and then he's gone. 

It takes a minute to catch his breath, and then he's pulling out, removing the condom and falling next to Calum. He’s fucking  _ exhausted _ , and he doesn't know if he can even speak - he sure as fuck can't move. Calum makes a measly groan, and Ashton laughs through his panting. As much as he set out to wreck Calum, which he definitely did, he wasn't aware that Calum would wreck him just as much.

It's exhilarating to think of what the future has in store for them if their first time was the best Ashton's ever had. 

Calum's back is still arched, still shaking in the stiff position, so Ashton slowly pulls him out of it and into his waiting arms until they're both curled up together on the hardwood floor looking out the filthy window. 

“How do you feel, pup?” Ashton asks when he collects himself enough to make a full sentence. His hand slowly traces a path down Calum's body, fingertips light as they try and commit his skin to memory. 

“Don’t fucking - ” Calum’s hands reach out to slap Ashton away when he gets too close to his most likely still sensitive dick, and Ashton laughs at the exasperation. “I can’t feel the lower half of my body.”

Ashton laughs even harder at the indignation in his tone. “And that’s just the first time.”

Calum groans, his head falling back against Ashton's shoulder. “I'm going to have to start jogging to keep up with you.”

“Or we could do yoga together.” 

“That’s not exercise that’s foreplay,” he whispers, voice nearly a moan. 

And maybe he's right, but then again, Calum's never done a single thing that hasn't had Ashton turned on beyond belief. And as he said before, this is only the beginning. 

⇆

As many times as Calum tells Ashton he’s superhuman, that he can do it all, Ashton’s  _ really _ lacking on his best friend duties. 

It’s half past ten, and they’re nearly a half an hour late to breakfast with Michael and Luke. As often as Ashton sees Michael at school, they don’t get much free time, both caught up in their jobs and relationships. 

It’s fine, they assure each other regularly. There’s nothing wrong with having lives separate from each other. They weren’t exactly attached at the hip in the first place, so the fact that they’re a bit distanced isn’t a big deal at all. Usually that’s enough to make him feel better, but today he knows he’s not winning any ‘Friend of the Year’ awards. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Ashton apologizes as the two pour themselves in the empty seats across from Michael and Luke. “It was a long week, so we slept in.”

Michael takes in their disheveled appearances and immediately begins laughing. He turns to Luke with amused eyes. “Translation: they were up too late fucking and need some recovery time this morning.” Calum blushes as soon as the words fall from Michael’s mouth. 

“ _ Mikey _ \- ”

Ashton’s protest is cut of when Michael shrugs. “It’s  _ fine _ ,” he insists. “We’re an open group. We share our kinks and stories, and we don’t feel any shame.” 

For all that it’s true, it’s still weird to think about, let alone discuss openly before they’ve even ordered food. 

“Hey!” Luke yells suddenly, pulling everyone’s attention on him. He gestures between himself and Calum. “We used to sleep together! Have you two ever?” Instead of flushing like Ashton expects, Calum suddenly looks immensely interested in the conversation. 

“Never,” Ashton scoffs. 

“You don’t have to be rude about it.” 

Ashton stares at Michael in disbelief for a moment before turning to Luke. “The first time we met,” he starts, and already Michael’s rolling his eyes, “he threw up all over me and called me short.” 

“Well he wasn’t wrong,” Calum agrees, and Ashton’s neck nearly snaps with how hard he jerks to glare at Calum. Michael and Luke are laughing in the background - Michael just a bit harder than his boyfriend - and Ashton feels betrayed. 

“Excuse me?” He laughs once, shortly. “I’m six feet tall.”

“Which I’m sure is tall to  _ some _ people,” Calum says, voice patronizing and eyes dancing in the light. “But it’s just not that impressive.”

Michael’s laughing kicks up another notch and Calum looks proud of himself for evoking such a reaction. As hot as Ashton finds the cockiness, he can’t let it stand, so he leans in closer, and drops his voice low. “Was I unimpressive last night when I had you screaming for the whole city to hear?”

“ _ Ashton _ .” Calum’s squirming, his face turning red as he glances at their friends hesitantly. 

“Or when I ate you out this morning and you  _ cried _ as you begged to cum?” he continues, the filth falling easily from his tongue. “Was I unimpressive then, puppy?” 

“ _ Alright _ ,” Michael’s voice, laced in disgust, cuts through their moment, interrupting Calum’s soft moan. “You’re both gross. Let’s order before I throw up all over Ashton again.”

Michael picks up his menu and blocks his view of them, but Ashton’s has to laugh. He’s too happy to feel any shame, too happy to sit silently and not enjoy every moment of his wonderfully chaotic life. 

Especially when Calum bites his lip, and then bites Ashton’s, right in the middle of the restaurant.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! And if you'd be interested in a fic from Luke's POV of everything? 
> 
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> 
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